The Killing Game
by TheSilverSleeper
Summary: "It was Merlin. Merlin tried to kill Arthur." A hunting trip turns deadly for the prince and his loyal servant, leaving everyone wondering who –and what- to trust.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here it is, the beginning of my newest story! I don't know if it will be as long as my other one, but it's looking pretty lengthy. Just putting up the first chapter for now. Will start regularly updating once or twice a day like normal come July 1st.**

**Summary: "It was Merlin. Merlin tried to kill Arthur." A hunting trip turns deadly for the king and his loyal servant, leaving everyone wondering who –and what- to trust.**

**Pairings: None**

**Warnings: Mild-medium violence, whump (all of it and lots of it)**

**Disclaimer: My cousin named her stuffed "wolf-dog-beaver-thing" Balinor, but I don't own Merlin.**

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Chapter One:

Gaius cleaned out the bowls he and Merlin had used for breakfast that morning, humming softly to himself. He never hummed unless he was alone. He supposed it was because he felt guilty he always got annoyed at Merlin for doing it. But it was just that Merlin's humming got on his nerves and his own didn't.

Mentally he went through the list of things he needed to do for the day. One of the maids in the kitchen had a rash from the soap that needed a special ointment made up, and his good friend Geoffrey had a terrible cough. He would probably need to eventually go check on Uther again (he'd done so already during his morning rounds), but that could wait 'til evening; he really didn't expect any big changes between now and then. It was a terrible thought, one he would never express aloud, except maybe to Merlin, but even then only when no one was in ear shot. But honestly, he was just being pragmatic about the whole situation. He was a physician after all. Then again, it was probably best not to mention it to Merlin, either; it would just put more strain and secrets between him and Arthur.

The thought of his ward and the prince reminded Gaius of the herbs he had needed collected, and he hoped the boy hadn't forgotten any. Merlin had promised to look for them while he was out on a hunt for the day with the knights and Arthur. They both knew Arthur would have no problems with his multitasking. Merlin often did so, and probably Arthur relished the idea of being able to send Merlin at least a few hundred paces away so he would stand less of a chance of scaring away the game. Gaius shook his head, smiling to himself as he mused over the boy's clumsiness. He shifted a few of his store of dried bunches of herbs, making sure he would have room for the new batches when they returned later that afternoon.

After fetching some more clean water from the pump, Gaius began set about making that ointment: grounding herbs, adding a few drops of this and that, all while humming that same little ditty. It was relaxing, this work. This was really all he should be doing; he was getting old, much too old for all the running about his job still required of him, even more so ever since Merlin had arrived and set them all on their heads.

He wasn't the only one running, either. The sounds of quick footfalls and rustling metal outside his door –perhaps his bones may have been getting old, but the rest of him was as sharp as ever– brought his head up with a snap. His door burst open to reveal Elyan, who hunched over, resting one hand on his knee, the other across his stomach, breathing heavily. Gaius started forward, thinking him injured, but the knight shook his head violently.

"Arthur… Arthur's been hurt… They're bringing him now."

Elyan sat down heavily on a bench, working to catch his breath. Gaius immediately began gathering bandages, herbs, and tonics, not sure what exactly the prince's injuries would entail. He briskly asked the knight if anyone else had been injured as well, but he just winced and gave a small shake. Gaius had a bad feeling that meant yes, and that Elyan didn't want to tell him so he would focus on the prince first, but he didn't have time to fathom out the lengths that loyalty drove these young men to.

Leon and Percival arrived shortly after, carefully carrying the unconscious form of the prince regent. Gently they laid him out on the waiting cot and stepped back so Gaius could inspect the damage. He had to admit: it didn't look good, but it didn't look awful either. Arthur's left shoulder was bound with blood soaked wrappings from where the knights had attempted to stem the flow until they could get him back to Camelot. Gaius undid them briskly, bringing a damp rag up to clean the wound with practiced proficiency. He hissed with sympathy as the cut became clearer. It wasn't dreadfully deep, perhaps the length of his pinky, and not too wide. From the shape, he guessed it was from a dagger, not a sword or arrow. For a moment Gaius was confused. Arthur hadn't lost nearly enough blood to have lost consciousness from it.

Gaius shouted orders to the men in the room, not bothering to look to see if he was being obeyed. In here, in these situations, he had more authority even than this very prince. The items he requested were shoved into his waiting hands, and he began to carefully sew up the slash before smearing the concoction another gave him onto it. Bandages –actual, clean bandages, not ragged scraps of tunics– were wrapped in place, Arthur's arm secured fastened to his side to stop him from moving it.

The most obvious problem dealt with, Gaius began looking Arthur over for other injuries. A few scraps, a blister on his knuckles from where his new gloves had chafed, and a head wound. Well, that explained the unconsciousness. Gaius probed the area, but it didn't seem too bad. There wasn't much blood, especially compared to what he'd just seen. He'd have a lump for a few days, and probably a concussion.

First though, Arthur had to survive the shoulder wound. Thanks to the knights, he hadn't lost a lot of blood, but he risked infection, even with the help of Gaius's herbs, and the stubborn man was not known for staying still when he was told to rest and recover. He was lucky, though. From its positioning, Gaius had a terrible feeling the blow had been meant for Arthur's heart.

Finally satisfied that, for now at least, he had done all he could for his patient, he looked up at his audience, both to check for more potential patients and to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind but that he hadn't had time to voice: "What happened?"

The knights shifted nervously. Only the knights. Gaius looked around the room. Elyan, Leon, Percival. He'd thought more of them than that had gone out with Arthur on the hunt, but he didn't see them here. He certainly didn't see the one person he very much expected to. The one he expected to have been the owner of those anonymous hands that were passing him things as he worked. The one he expected to be badgering him to know if Arthur was going to be okay, instead of leaving the room in this awkward silence.

"Where's Merlin?"

For a moment, none of them said anything, just continued to avoid his gaze. Finally, it was Percival who broke the silence. Still refusing to meet Gaius's eyes, he answered, his voice so clear that none could mistake his words, "It was Merlin. Merlin tried to kill Arthur."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I apologize. I meant to have this up hours and hours ago, but there were exigent circumstances. By exigent circumstances I mean starts with "m" and ends with "ouse" mixed with internet cables. Luckily my uni has a dedicated IT staff. And a library that closes at 0100 in the summer.**

**So, here is chapter 2 as promised! I've been writing like crazy, and I've been coming up with lots of ideas for this fic, but please put some of your own in reviews! What do you want to see happen? I'd like to make this a bit longer than it's been turning out so far. Right now it's only going to be about 15 chapters, and only about 25-30,000 words.**

**Also, I forgot to mention before, this is set between Season 3-4, post-Agravaine arrival, but also AU post-Morgause death.**

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Chapter Two

"-and then she tells me that it wasn't her the entire time; it was her brother!"

The group of knights erupted in a bout of hearty laughter, not tapering off even as their prince scowled at them.

"Really, Gwaine, you're worse than Merlin," Arthur muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, don't insult Merlin like that! He could be worse than me if he really wanted to!"

That earned him another scowl as Arthur stalked away. They'd been out on the hunt for a few hours now –or at least the _sun_ was up by now; stupid before dawn starts– and Gwaine had already grown bored. The concept of hunting itself wasn't all that bad; it was the practice he loathed. It mostly seemed to entail endless walking and waiting and searching.

And when Arthur was around, it apparently was supposed to include silence, too.

Not that the prince usually got it. Between Gwaine and Merlin, there was always someone making noise. Arthur's irritation over the matter never failed to entertain Gwaine and the other knights, enough that even they didn't complain too much about the trips. Particularly when he would begin yelling at his clumsy manservant or talkative knight, creating far more of a disruptive then they ever had.

Today's hunt had been less entertaining than normal, simply because Merlin wasn't nearby for most of it. Oh, he was around, wandering about within earshot –Arthur and the others would never let him travel far from the safety of their swords–, but he had informed them before they started that Gaius needed him to gather some herbs while they were out, a task to which Arthur readily agreed, eager to keep him away from the game. Unfortunately that gave Gwaine one less person to talk to, and of all of them, Merlin was definitely the easiest to strike up a rousing conversation with. The two hadn't been friends for that long, perhaps a little over a year, but Gwaine felt like he'd known the other man for ages. Merlin was always up for a prank or a pint –or at least keeping Gwaine company while he had one or two or five–, and he was the only one who knew of the peasant knight's secret nobility.

Gwaine had found the others of Arthur's new inner circle weren't so bad, either. Leon, the only one of the bunch who had already been a knight for years, he found to be entirely too serious, but he was impressed by the man's utter devotion to his duty to the crown. Elyan's fighting skills were a little raw –he'd only been a blacksmith's son after all, not a real fighter–, but he made up for it in heart, and Gwaine got the feeling he worked especially hard to keep up with the others in an effort to prove himself, not to the other knights or even the prince, but to his sister, Gwen. Percival Gwaine had become fast friends with right off. Perhaps it was because the big man always listened when the other man talked, or that his buff exterior held as mischievous an interior as his own, Gwaine didn't know, but they had quickly become as close as he and Merlin.

Then there was Lancelot.

Gwaine couldn't yet fathom out how he felt about Lancelot. Not that there was anything wrong with the man. On the contrary, there were many times Lancelot was so _good_ Gwaine thought he might not be for true. No, it wasn't his personality that bothered Gwaine. It was, oddly enough, his relationship with Merlin.

It bothered Gwaine that it bothered him. Oftentimes he would see the two huddled together on the side of the training field or late at night during a patrol, muttering something to each other. He'd noticed it from the first time they had all been together, before they went to take back the castle from Morgana. Merlin and Lancelot had stayed up late, whispering to each other. Gwaine hadn't been able to hear a word they said, but he'd been able to tell Lancelot wasn't entirely happy about something. He wasn't sure why he found it strange; after all, the two had known each other far longer than either had known him, but it perhaps it was the way they would stop speaking if he or someone else came near, or how their eyes would shift about, making it clear that the topic they now spoke jovially about was not the one they had been discussing moments before.

Gwaine didn't like thinking Merlin was keeping secrets from him. Or maybe, rather, that he was keeping secret _that_ he was keeping secrets from him. Gwaine didn't mind secrets; he had plenty of his own. But he had to admit that part of his pride was hurt that Merlin would talk to Lancelot and not him.

Hand signals caught the attention of all of the knights as Arthur spotted movement in the trees. The prince brought up his crossbow –the rest of them didn't bother other than to shift their grips on their weapons; if anyone but Arthur bagged the game, it was bound to be a _long_ trip back– and made ready to take aim once the prey came into the view. A few tense moments passed, and suddenly they were all taking aim as the band of mercenaries burst through the trees.

Once his prepped arrow was spent, Gwaine tossed his bow to the side, being sure it was far enough away his horse wouldn't stumble over it, in favor of his sword, an action he saw repeated by his comrades in his periphery. Now _this_ was what he lived for, the only reason, really, he'd agreed to this whole knighting thing. Sure, he believed in the kingdom that Arthur had sworn to one day build, but Gwaine was a man of action, and his action was fighting, not politics.

He thrust and parried as the mercenaries came at him, fending them off from horseback as long as he could before dismounting with a yell. Elyan and Percival were already on the ground, both preferring to fight from their feet. Gwaine didn't really worry about any of them. Even Elyan, new as he was to real combat with a sword, could easily fend off these scavengers. It wasn't until he spotted a flash of blue shirt from the corner of his eye that he turned to focus on something that wasn't dirty rotten scoundrel.

"Merlin, what are you doing? Get out of here!"

Somewhere Merlin had found a dagger and was brandishing it like a sword, using it to take little nicks out of the mercenary who lunged at him, though he wasn't able to get close enough to land a more painful blow. Or perhaps he was, if the man behind him, blood pouring from a stomach wound, was anything to judge by.

Gwaine was forced to tear his concentration from his friend as another sword thrust at him, though he tried to back up as he fought, moving towards where the other man still grappled with his foe. He dispatched his opponent with a hilt to the head, sending the man to the ground, then spun back toward Merlin, whirling his sword and taking out the other enemy in the process.

"Thanks."

"More fun than gathering herbs, eh, mate?"

Merlin rolled his eyes as he steeled himself for more, though luckily the band was thinning out. "Agree to disagree," he muttered.

Gwaine was drawn away again as once more he was attacked, but he could tell the onslaught was nearly over, most of them choosing to run away now rather than continue fighting. He was able to glance around a bit more and noted Lancelot and Percival and then Elyan and Leon all tag-teaming the remaining mercenaries. Arthur, it seemed, must have taken a blow to the head, for he stood a little woozily off to the side, though his sword was still in hand. Merlin was moving towards him, which didn't surprise Gwaine in the least. Even if Arthur hadn't been hurt, Merlin's loyalty to the prince was legendary.

But it was after Gwaine had extracted his sword from the belly of his opponent that it had happened. They had all stood and watched in horror, none of them sure what to do, if what they were seeing was even real.

He had turned to see Merlin with Arthur as he expected, but what he had not expected was for their arms to be raised, dagger in one hand, sword in the other, metal lengths clashing together. He hadn't expected the dagger to find its target, and he certainly hadn't expected that target to be the prince, who, as stunned as the rest of them, dropped to his knees, eyes filled with too filled with shock to have room for betrayal.

Then Merlin turned to the rest of them, having wrenched his weapon back out again. The look on his face was unrecognizable, not because it did not belong to Merlin, but because it shouldn't. None of them moved for the longest time.

And for once, even Gwaine was lost for words.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Due to the fact that apparently no one can make a wheelchair-accessible building, even in this modern day and age, I'm not sure when the next time I'll be able to update. Hopefully my uni will have my dorm's wifi fixed soon. Because I just really hate going to my uni's library.**

**Which is sad, because the library should be the most magical place in the world.**

**However, here is chapter 3, so please enjoy! Thank you all for the follows! Keep them coming! Don't worry, even if I'm not able to upload, I'll be writing, so I'll probably put up two or three chapters next time to make up for it!**

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Chapter Three

"Where is Merlin now?"

No one replied.

"Sir Leon? Sir Percival? _Elyan? Where is Merlin now?_"

Gaius was glad Gwen had arrived in time to ask this question, because he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. He knew the knights and Merlin were close enough to be called friends, but they were also fiercely loyal to their prince. He was afraid to find out what they would have done now, when the evidence looked so plain.

"We… don't… know…" Elyan replied haltingly, refusing to meet his sister's eye.

"_What do you mean you don't know?_"

"He ran," Leon explained dejectedly. "Gwaine and Lancelot stayed behind to look for him."

Gaius noted how he phrased it with triumphant interest. "Stayed to look for him." Not "went after him" or "are hunting him down."

Gwen seemed to be just as satisfied with their answer, though for a different reason. She gave a grim smile from where she sat next to Arthur's bedside, stroking his hair with one hand. "At least _those two_ will give him a chance to give some answers before hauling him before the court to be tried. _You lot_ have already sentenced him, haven't you?" She glared up at them harshly, her hand never ceasing in its gentle ministrations.

"Come on, Gwen, you know we would never do that!" Elyan protested angrily. The other two knights, however, had the decency to look chastised. "We care about Merlin, too!"

"Gwen, you know no one here believes Merlin wanted to kill Arthur," Leon added softly.

The unspoken "but" hung so heavily in the air that Gaius just had to put a voice to it. "But?"

"_But then why did he run?_"

"Well, we could ask him, but obviously you all terrified him out of his skin so that he felt he _had_ to run away," Gwen snapped waspishly. "I've known Merlin for _years_. He is more loyal to Arthur than all of you put together. He would _never_ do this to him, not willingly. That you would dare, for one second, even think of accusing him–"

"G-Gwen?"

Gwen and the others spun back to the cot upon which their prince lay. Gaius immediately went to his empty side, putting a hand firmly on his good shoulder to keep him from attempting to rise.

"Arthur, are you alright?" Gwen stammered, taking his clammy hand in both of hers and squeezing it. "Well, of course you're not alright. How are you feeling?"

Arthur groaned heavily. "Like I've been trampled by a griffin." He looked blearily around the room, taking in the gathering, biting back a moan as the movement pulled at his shoulder. "What happened?"

Everyone, even Gaius, hesitated. Finally, urged on by glares from Gwen and Gaius and nudges from Elyan and Percival, Leon sighed and stepped forward.

"Well, sire, we were attacked by mercenaries during the hunt."

"Yes, I remember that part. What I don't remember is having the need to make a visit to Gaius. Why am I making a visit to Gaius? What happened to my arm?"

No one said anything. Gaius didn't blame them. He certainly wouldn't want to be the one to tell the irate looking prince. Nor would he allow himself to be roped into doing it, though he would certainly step in if he needed to in order to keep things from heading south. Like Gwen, he didn't believe the story was as simple as it appeared, a fact he would have believed even if he didn't know more about why exactly that would be than most. Merlin was like his son. There was simply no way Merlin would just decide one day to kill his best friend, destiny or no.

When it appeared no one was going to step forward and save him, Leon decided to try and save himself. "What do you remember just before blacking out, sire?"

"We had just defeated the mercenaries. Or almost. Maybe one or two hadn't run away like cowards yet."

"Anything else?" Leon asked hopefully.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Arthur bellowed, fed up with his knight's hedging. "Just out with it already! It's not like one of you did it!"

Silence filled the room. Arthur scowled darkly from one person to another, but this time no one was willing to answer, even Leon. However, Arthur was starting to get some clues. "One of you _did_ do it."

Nobody answered, but the guilty looks on his knights' faces must have been answer enough. "_Who did it? Sir Leon?_ _Tell me_."

Gaius would have almost felt badly for the senior knight upon being ordered by his prince regent if he weren't so angry with the man himself. The physician felt worse for Arthur at the moment, and he wished the trauma hadn't caused such memory loss, though if the prince had seen it happen as the others had said he guessed it was caused more by trauma from shock than from the head wound. Reliving the experience, particularly from another's viewpoint, wasn't going to be the best thing for his recovery. Better to go through it once and never again.

Better still to have never gone through it at all.

Leon mumbled his answer so that Arthur couldn't hear him at first. An order to speak up didn't serve him much better. It was only when it looked like the prince was about to explode again that Leon finally answered more clearly. "Merlin. It was Merlin who stabbed you."

Arthur looked incredulous to say the least. "_Mer_lin? Merlin couldn't stab the castle gates if you held his hand and swung it for him."

Gaius almost snorted. Trust Arthur to be more concerned about Merlin's supposed pitiful combat skills than anything else.

Apparently Elyan was thinking the same thing. "Oh, I don't know, his aim looked pretty good when he was trying to _kill you_."

"Elyan!" Gwen cried in horror, jumping up from her place by Arthur to slap her brother. Elyan didn't even try to duck out of the way. He and everyone in the room knew he deserved it.

"Sire," Percival said quietly, "we saw it happen. It was definitely him."

Arthur lay stock still on the cot. Images were flashing through his head. Fighting the mercenaries. Being thrown from his horse into the tree. Stars dancing in his vision as he struggled to his feet. The relief he felt at seeing his men were okay. Merlin… Merlin charging at him, dagger held high, face filled with that awful mix of emotions his mind couldn't even process as part of his servant. Lifting his own sword to harmlessly sweep the knife to the side. Pain… pain. Darkness.

_Merlin._

Arthur stared at the ceiling, dazed. He had to swallow a few times to find his voice. Luckily no one else was really up to talking again anyway. "What happened?"

It came out as a horrid whisper, but Arthur didn't feel like making another attempt at it.

"We don't know," Leon answered, his voice low. "We haven't been able to ask him yet."

"Sire," Gaius spoke up, and Arthur startled a bit, though of course he'd known the physician was there. "Sire, there are several possible explanations for what has happened, none of which implicate Merlin as being at fault."

"Well, _obviously_ _Merlin_ isn't at fault!" Arthur snapped, though he latched gratefully onto the possibility of an explanation. "He's been _possessed_ or _bewitched _or _something!_"

"But he was with us the whole time. We would have heard if he was being attacked."

Guinevere looked ready to murder Elyan by this point, so Arthur reached up and grabbed her hand to stop her, lacing his fingers through hers. She didn't stop glowering at her brother, but she did back down, taking her seat beside him again. "It's not Merlin," she insisted petulantly. "It's not."

Apparently Gaius had decided this was the best place for their discussion to close. He started to usher the knights toward the door. "Sire, you need to rest. I'm sure Gwaine and Lancelot will have Merlin back here by morning, and then we can get to the bottom of this."

But Arthur was afraid he was already at the bottom. And all he saw there was Merlin.

* * *

Merlin had never used the teleportation spell before. He'd been expressly forbidden from doing so by both Gaius and Kilgharrah. Since he had never harboured any desire to wind up with one arm less than he'd had before or come out with his body halfway through a wall, he had chosen to obey and leave the spell well enough alone, no matter how useful he thought it might be for getting between Camelot and the woods as he so often had to do.

But desperate times called for desperate measures, and these were desperate times indeed.

He heard them chasing after him. He knew they were coming, and he knew he could never outrun them, not for long. Wildly, Merlin began to chant the words he'd promised never to use. He only hoped he was getting them right now. He felt his magic rise up inside him, always a good sign that _something_ was going to happen…

And he had moved, all right. About fifty paces ahead.

Fifty paces were better than nothing. Right then he wished it had been fifty leagues, but he would take what he could get.

_They're going to kill me. They're going to kill me._

That single phrase was the only one that played through his mind, over and over and over. He let it, because only one other thought wanted to join it, and as long as he let the first run freely, he didn't have to concentrate on the second.

Because the first was terrifying, to be sure, but the second… no, he couldn't let himself think about the second.

_They're going to kill me. I just killed Arthur. They're going to kill me. They're going to kill me._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Do you know what I am doing for you people? No? Well, I'll tell you. These next chapters come to you via two countries, two laptops, and a mobile. That's right. I retyped this on my mobile from my computer's Word document, sent it over my mobile data to my cousin, who is uploading from ****_her_**** computer so that you can read it. Why? Because I have a bit of a psychological problem, I think.**

**Thank you to those who have reviewed and PMed! I am still getting them on my phone, so keep up the suggestions, but sadly I can't reply like I would love to to all of you! **

**Happy 4****th**** of July to all the American people who are going to interrupt my dormmates' sleep tonight with fireworks (oh, the perks of being deaf)! And happy 4****th**** of July to everyone everywhere else who just has a calendar!**

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Chapter Four

They'd lost Merlin within minutes. Gwaine had to admit to being surprised. Yes, he knew Merlin had a few more talents up his sleeve than the pratty prince gave him credit for, but even he didn't think the clumsy boy could so effectively outwit two men who had once made their livings by their wits.

Neither Gwaine nor Lancelot had thought to grab their horses, so determined to go after Merlin the second they had shaken the shock from their systems enough to move again. They were faster than the servant, and they could still just make him out as he fled through the trees, and not to mention it would be easier to tackle him this way once they caught up with him.

Neither of them had counted on him having the ability to completely vanish.

"Where… where'd 'e go?" Gwaine puffed, leaning against a tree to catch his breath, scanning the ground for some sign of a trail.

"I dunno." Lancelot, too, was breathing heavily, frowning as he stared off into the distance, trying to catch a glimpse of black hair or blue shirt.

"He was right in front of us… and then he wasn't!"

"Maybe he climbed a tree."

Gwaine raised an eyebrow. "Climbed a tree? Really, mate? When's the last time you saw _Merlin_ climb a tree?"

"When's the last time you saw Merlin stab Arthur?"

…Touché. "Let's scan the trees."

Unfortunately that theory was as fruitless as Gwaine had first thought, simply because there weren't any climbable trees around.

They continued making their way, following footprints when they could, though half the time Gwaine was pretty certain the ones they were following didn't belong to their quarry but instead to the myriad bandits, mercenaries, and other thugs that seemed to roam rampant throughout these parts. For hours they scoured the forest, searching for any sign of the wayward servant.

"Gwaine, we have to stop."

"You can stop," Gwaine growled, half-insulted by the suggestion, continuing to move on. "I'm going to keep searching 'til I find my friend."

"Gwaine," Lancelot rested a hand on his arm. Gwaine tried to shake him off, but he tightened his grip. "It's getting dark. We won't be able to see anything soon. We'll find him tomorrow."

Neither of them spoke about what they would do when they found Merlin. Right now they would just settle for locating him.

Gwaine knew that for his own part, at least, he would refuse to bring Merlin back to be executed. He had no doubts that that was the fate that awaited his friend. Arthur's fate was yet unknown to the pair, but even attempted murder of the prince carried the death penalty, whether it ended up being successful in the end or not.

Whether or not Merlin had meant to kill Arthur, Gwaine didn't really care. He hadn't always been a knight. Throughout his life he'd had to do some pretty unsavory things to survive, and he knew what a man could be driven to when circumstances called for it. No matter what the others might say, Gwaine intended to let Merlin speak his piece, then let him go, even if he had to knock Lancelot out and run away with Merlin to manage it. This was _Merlin_, after all. Even if he had committed his actions of his own will, Gwaine knew his friend had to have had a pretty dang good reason for doing so.

Gwaine half-expected Lancelot to suggest they go back to Camelot for the night, but he did no such thing, simply beginning to go about the motions of finding firewood. They had no flint on them, having left all their supplies back on their horses –_Merlin had the flint anyway_, Gwaine remembered grudgingly– but Lancelot was eventually able to get a decent blaze going. They sat in silence, each brooding over their own thoughts.

Lancelot volunteered to take first watch –_What, in case Merlin decides to jump out from his tree and attack us?_– so Gwaine settled back against a trunk, knees drawn up to his chest. He closed his eyes, but he knew sleep wasn't likely going to come, no matter how drained he might feel. Indeed, he'd barely drifted off into a fitful slumber before the other knight was shaking him awake again. Gwaine jumped to his feet immediately, sword in hand, before he remembered what was going on and settled down.

It took a few moments for him to realize it was dawn, not time for him to take his own watch. He cocked an eyebrow. Lancelot merely shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."

Gwaine watched the other man out of the corner of his eye as they moved on. He didn't get Lancelot. Merlin had once told him –in the strictest confidence after a couple of pints that he was never to bring up never _ever again_– that Lancelot had once been in love with Gwen (really, who wouldn't be?) and probably still was, but had given her up upon learning that Arthur was, too. Gwaine had been certain that a man who would give up his lady love for loyalty to his prince would surely give up a friendship with a treasonous servant for the same in an instant.

Yet here was Lancelot, trekking doggedly through the forest, not even glancing back at Camelot, where that very prince could be dead at this very moment from that treasonous servant's hand. Gwaine knew why he didn't care –okay, he _cared_; he simply cared about _Merlin_ more. He just didn't understand why Lancelot didn't.

Maybe he felt guilty. Maybe this was what all those whispered discussions were about. Merlin growing more and more disgruntled about something to do with Arthur, or worried about trouble he'd gotten himself into that he couldn't get out of, looking to Lancelot for aid, but the man hadn't been able to help him. Maybe the other knight had known this was coming all along and felt badly he hadn't been able to stop it, like that made it his fault somehow.

Nice as it felt for Gwaine to be able to put some of the blame on someone else, the thoughts only served to make himself feel worse. Because if they were the case, it meant that he himself hadn't seen the signs. Merlin had been in trouble for ages, and he had done nothing to help him either. None of them had. Gwaine sorely hoped that wasn't the case.

The two searched for hours, but try as they might, they couldn't come up with a trail they thought really could belong to Merlin. Finally, they had to agree to circle back to where they had last seen his footprints. The knights followed those prints back to the scene of the attack, where they were surprised to find their horses and Merlin's tied up and waiting, passively chomping on grass and ignoring the carnage still lying around them.

"Must have left them expecting us to come back for them," Lancelot reasoned. He bypassed his own horse and went over to Merlin's. "His things are still here. He hasn't come back this way."

Gwaine hadn't really expected him to. "That means he doesn't have anything to start a fire with. He had his satchel, but all that had were the herbs he gathered. Flint was in his pack with the horse. He would have spent a cold night. He doesn't like to hunt, either." He frowned at the realizations. The thought of Merlin freezing and starving alone in the wilderness was not a pleasant one.

But Lancelot was merely shaking his head. "I'm sure he managed, just like we did. Merlin's stronger than he lets on."

"I know he is," Gwaine retorted. This was more the Lancelot he was used to, the one who acted like he seemed to know Merlin just a bit better than the rest of them did.

Gwaine went over to the thugs Merlin had been fighting when he had first noticed him in the battle. He crouched by them, examining the wounds that had been inflicted. He didn't know what drew him to examine Merlin's victims. _Examining his pattern? No, stop that. Merlin doesn't have a __**pattern.**_ The one who had been killed before he'd come over to defend his friend he'd already known had died of a belly wound. Then there was the one Gwaine himself had ended up slaying, with small little pecks on his arms where Merlin had mostly just been trying to fend him off.

A third, likely the last, was next to him, lying on his stomach. For a moment Gwaine wasn't sure how this one had died. No blood surrounded him, except the blood on the sword he held. Gwaine grimaced a bit at that. So far as he knew, none of them but Arthur had been injured. Which could only mean the blood was Merlin's… He gave himself a little shake and looked at the man a little closer. With the tip of his boot, he gave him a little kick to roll him over. The instant he saw his face, however, Gwaine drew back. The man was _frothing._

A tiny tinkling sound drew his ear, and Gwaine looked to find the source. A small bottle had fallen from the hand that did not hold the sword. Gwaine did not have to be a physician to know what those skull and crossbones meant. _Poison? But… but why would he-?_

A voice interrupted his thoughts. "Come on. We'll take his horse with us. Merlin can ride it back when we find him."

Gwaine just nodded shortly. He wasn't going to mention yet he had no intention for Merlin to make the return trip.

Not until he figured out where Lance's loyalties lay.

* * *

Lancelot wished Gwaine would stop staring at him. It was starting to get on his nerves. He'd noticed it from the moment they'd started out after Merlin the day before, and the man hadn't ceased since.

When they'd finally had to stop for the night or risk injuring themselves tripping over something in the dark, Lancelot had immediately volunteered to take the watch. His aim had been two-fold. On the one hand he hoped the gesture would gain him a bit of goodwill with the other knight. On the other, he was afraid if he fell asleep for even a second, Gwaine would slip off without him into the dark.

Lancelot knew Merlin trusted Gwaine implicitly. Honestly, he personally didn't know what the boy saw in him. The man was charismatic, to be sure, but little else. But then, Merlin somehow saw the best in everyone. Lancelot was afraid it was his fatal flaw. Why, he'd barely even met Lancelot when he was willing to break all the rules to try to get him his knighthood.

Lancelot was a bit more cautious. Merlin wanted so badly to protect all his friends; he didn't realize that sometimes he needed someone to protect him, too.

He obviously hadn't done his job of protecting him well enough. If he had, this never would have happened. But how could any of them have seen this coming? Lancelot thought he knew everything there was to know about Merlin. After all, they talked about everything. He was the one Merlin came to when he was excited about a new spell he'd discovered, or when he needed to rant about how he was so angry with Arthur he was going to make him spit up toads or give him donkey ears (Lancelot had laughed at first, then been impressed and horrified at the same time to learn that Merlin could have actually done it). He was the only one who knew about Merlin's destiny, how much it weighed on him, but also how much he believed in it.

They had had many discussions ever since Merlin had sent for him to help take the castle back from Morgana's mad takeover, but never once had killing Arthur been one of them.

Lancelot wondered if this was all part of that whole destiny thing he didn't really understand. He knew Merlin had to do things a lesser man would think twice about –like taking on an entire immortal army with minor swordsmanship skills– all for the sake of fulfilling his destiny. Maybe he knew something they didn't. Maybe something was wrong with Arthur, and no one had noticed. It could happen. It _had_ happened, if Merlin was to be believed (which Lancelot did).

On the other hand, part of Lancelot was worried. He was worried because he _did_ know Merlin. He knew Merlin had a tendency to act first and think later. He knew Merlin had lost much in the name of his destiny and was prepared to lose more. He knew that when Merlin got something into his mind and did think about, he had a tendency to hold it there and let it fester, to think about it single-mindedly, to believe he had no way out of it…

The problem was, there was no way to tell anything until they found Merlin. And there was little way he could ask Merlin honestly with Gwaine around. Short of running off in the middle of the night himself, he couldn't lose the other knight without raising questions. With Merlin running around stabbing princes, questions were something he wanted to avoid right now, so it seemed he was stuck with him. He allowed himself a bit of an inner smirk. Funny how he was so worried about Gwaine running about on his own, when it the same plan he had for himself.

Tag-a-long or not, Lancelot knew, he needed to find Merlin first. They may have had to do this together, but he was under no illusions.

This was a race.

* * *

**A/N: I'll have you know, Gwaine owns my other heart (Merlin owns the first one) (I'm Gallifreyan), so writing Lancelot's POV and pretending I don't love him was possibly the hardest thing I have ever done. I had to channel someone else's Lancelot-hate to get it done.**

**Also, I despise seeing Lancelot being called "Lance," but that alliteration just didn't look right any other way.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: While I was having coffee and cake the other day with some friends, we were discussing Merlin, and someone said that if you didn't cry during the finale that you were watching it wrong.**

**I think that is my goal when I write. If you don't read my completed fics and come out of it with the desperate feeling that someone needs a hug –either you, me, or the characters– then either I have not my job correctly or you need to go get some professional help.**

**Or maybe by feeling that way I need some professional help.**

**Let me know in reviews if I am succeeding in my goal so far!**

* * *

Chapter Five

It was only due to Gaius's potions Arthur was able to get even half the sleep the physician had intended him to. He was woken early to an argument above him. Though the combatants seemed to be trying to keep their voices low, they were failing, growing louder and louder as they went on.

"–telling you, this is not the time to be troubling him with this, my lord."

"I understand your feelings on the matter, my dear girl, but this business is between myself and the prince. It has no bearing on the people."

"With all due respect, my lord –"

Arthur could hear the growing frustration in Guinevere's voice and decided step in before she said something she regretted. He let out a purposefully loud groan, distracting her from her quarrel. Instantly he felt a presence flit to his side.

"Arthur! Um, I mean, my lord! How are you feeling? Gaius isn't here right now, but he said I can give you a potion for the pain after I check your bandages. I mean, if you need it, that is. Not that I'm saying I think you will–"

Arthur gave her a small reassuring smile. "No, that's alright, Guinevere. I'll be fine." He leaned on her as she helped him sit up on the cot and worked hard not to grimace. His shoulder _did_ still smart rather a lot, but he didn't want to let her see that, not right now. It was nothing he couldn't fight through.

It wasn't for Guinevere's benefit that Arthur hid his pain. He was certain she saw right through his efforts, anyway. He hoped she would hold her tongue for the moment, however, until he had dealt with the one he _was_ acting for.

Arthur turned his head so he could face Agravaine, giving him as put together a facial expression as he could. "Uncle, what business is so urgent it couldn't wait until the council meeting?"

Agravaine raised one impeccable eyebrow, looking shocked. "You hardly expected me to sit around and do nothing while my only nephew sits on his death bed, did you?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm hardly on my death bed, Uncle. It's just a scratch."

"And how exactly did you come about this 'scratch,' sire? I tried to ask your knights, but they simply told me to come to you."

_Bloody cowards._ Actually, Arthur was grateful. He didn't really want the council to know exactly what had happened out in the woods yet, particularly as _he_ barely understood what had happened, and he had been there. The council, most of whom were still used to being governed by his father, could be old-fashioned in their ways and might be too quick to leap to judgment.

They, especially his uncle Agravaine, who had just recently arrived a few weeks ago, didn't know Merlin like he did.

Like he hoped he did.

"We were attacked while out on a hunt. It was nothing. My knights and I were able to handle it." It wasn't a lie, after all.

Agravaine eyebrow raised a smidge higher. "If it was handled, then why did several of your knights not assigned to patrols ride out to the woods this morning, sire?"

Arthur tried not to let his rising frustration show. It was a legitimate question, after all. He'd sent Leon and Elyan himself, telling them to head out in the morning to join the search if Gwaine and Lancelot hadn't returned by the first bells.

_"At the very least you can meet them on the way in and give them the news I'm still alive."_

He'd wanted to send Percival, too (and honestly he'd wanted to jump on a horse and join them himself), but Leon had insisted that at least one of them stay behind as an unofficial bodyguard. If there _was_ a sorcerer at large intent on killing Arthur, he argued, then someone had to be around to protect him in case they tried again.

However, unable to give that reasoning to Agravaine, Arthur could see why it would seem odd that two of his knights had gone for an unexplained stroll the day after their prince regent had been attacked. He just didn't want to have to handle all these questions right now. Arthur could feel a headache growing in his temples, and he resisted the urge to lift his hands to rub them.

_Merlin, when you get back I'm going to kill you for putting me through this_.

"I sent them to ensure there were no stragglers lying in wait nearer to Camelot. I'm sure some of them got away; I watched them run myself."

"Only two? I know your knights are formidable warriors, sire, but surely you would not expect two knights to go against who knows how many assailants?"

Arthur waved away the concern nonchalantly. "They have orders not to engage. If they find anything, once I have recovered I intend to ride out with them to scourge the forest of this plague once and for all."

Really it wasn't a bad plan, if Arthur allowed himself to think about it, and he honestly might try to do it, one day. Just not right now.

Agravaine didn't look entirely convinced, but he inclined his head respectfully, concern for his nephew still clear in his eyes. "Well, then, sire, I will let you return to recovering from your… _scratch._" He gave Arthur a bow and a smile and swept from the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

"So, I take it we're not telling anyone else what happened?"

Arthur jumped for a second, then felt a bit foolish. He'd almost forgotten Guinevere was still in the room. He shook his head vehemently. "No. I'd rather not, not right now. Not until we know what's going on."

Arthur wished he knew what was going on _now_. Before Gaius had given him the potion to help him rest the night before, the physician had listed off a host of reasons why Merlin would suddenly appear to be his enemy. He could be possessed by an evil spirit. He could be enchanted by a sorcerer bent on revenge. His mother could have been kidnapped, and he could be being forced to kill Arthur in return for her safe release. But with so many different possibilities, and no way to find out which one it was without catching either Merlin or the perpetrator (or both, depending on the method, according to Gaius), they had no idea what to think about the whole thing.

Arthur didn't _want_ to blame Merlin. Certainly not. But with this happening so soon after Morgana, his own _sister_, betraying him… he just didn't know anymore… Could it be that his friend, too…

_No. You can't think like that. Soon you'll start to suspect everyone, and you'll turn into the side of your father you never wanted to be like. Merlin is your __**friend**__. He will always be your __**friend.**_

Guinevere sighed despairingly, completely unaware of his inner struggles. "Oh, Arthur. Do you think they'll find him?"

He gathered her hands in his, squeezing them tightly. Funny how it should be him offering comfort right now. "Of course they will. You know Gwaine. He's probably got Merlin trussed up like a chicken and sharing a pint with him in the tavern right now."

That earned him a tiny smile. "I just don't understand. Why on earth would _Merlin_ try to kill you?"

It was Arthur's turn to sigh now. "Believe me; that will be the first question I ask once they get back." He forced a big smile onto his face. "Now, did someone say something about bandages and pain potion?"

As he cajoled her mind away from less pleasant affairs, he was unaware that the least pleasant kind were lurking just outside the door, wearing a smile of his own that wasn't forced at all.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Yae for friends who will take you to Barnes and Noble on their day off (a place almost as magical as the library, except you have to pay for the books).**

**This was one of the most fun chapters I've written, just for Morgana POV. Sadly, it's also probably the shortest, and probably not my best work. However, at least one question will be semi-answered! And a thousand more will be raised… just the way I like it.**

* * *

Chapter Six

"You're certain?"

"Absolutely, my lady. They clearly said it was Arthur's servant that tried to kill him."

"_Merlin?_"

Morgana could hardly believe what she was hearing. That boy would never cease to amazing her. What drove that mind of his? When he'd betrayed her by poisoning her nearly two years ago, she'd almost believed his excuse of loyalty to Arthur and Camelot over her. But this certainly put a new face to things. This was the second attempt he'd made to kill a Pendragon. And this time it was an effort even she could approve of.

She'd underestimated Merlin once again. Perhaps his aspirations were a bit more like her own than she'd thought.

Not to say she was ever going to trust him. Certainly not. If he was willing to betray even his beloved Arthur to get his way, than he was more of a wild card than she could have imagined. She'd have to keep her eye on him to be sure. He'd be likely to turn on her again in a second.

Morgana snorted in derision. Was she honestly considering this? The boy had _killed her sister_. Had attempted to _kill her_.

_But he also wants to kill Arthur_.

_Yes, and that makes him a homicidal madman, not a potential ally._

_Doesn't Arthur consider you, too, a homicidal madwoman?_

_But you aren't. You just want to get your revenge and be free._

_Merlin can help you get that. He's craftier than he looks, you know that._

_The boy is useless. Everyone knows __**that**__._

_Arthur only says that because he's too proud to admit when he's weak. Together you could take over Camelot. Together no one could stop you._

**_He_**_ would stop you. __**He**__ doesn't want you to rule._

_Then you get rid of him once the job is done. Use him and lose him._

_Morgause wouldn't like it._

_Morgause isn't here anymore._

Agravaine watched his niece's inner battle with fascinated trepidation. Her head made rapid twitching motions as her thoughts played over her face. She didn't say a word, but he could tell she was trying to make some kind of decision about what to do with the information he had brought.

He hadn't known that it would have such an impact on her. Honestly, when he first met Merlin, he thought the boy nice enough, if a bit simple-minded. Morgana, however, seemed to despise him. The moment he mentioned he was the one who had attacked the prince, she had first reeled in shock, then crowed with delight.

Now her facial expression was swinging wildly from malice to contempt to utter glee and back again. Agravaine wondered what was going on in her mind, but knew better than to ask. The first time he'd thought to try to worm into her planning process, she'd slapped him across the face so hard he'd had the marks for days (he had a feeling she lay a curse on them to keep them there). Now he simply stayed silent and waited for her to clue him in or not as she saw fit.

Morgana's growing emotional instability was a cause for slight concern for Agravaine. She'd reached out to him after she'd heard Arthur had asked for his help in advising him in his newfound regency of the kingdom. He'd been sympathetic, of course, supporting her wrath against Uther, but the girl was unpredictable. Particularly now that that loathsome sister of hers was dead.

Agravaine couldn't say he'd harboured any ill will against Arthur in the beginning, and if he was honest with himself, he didn't now, either. He wasn't even sure Morgana did, under all her madness. All he had ever wanted was the power denied him after the death of his sister. Power Morgana had promised him. Arthur, too, promised him a position now that his father was out of commission, but how long would that last? With enemies knocking at Camelot's door every other day –Morgana included– it was only a matter of time before Arthur fell. Agravaine had simply decided to ally himself a bit more comfortably with the side that was more likely to win. And, of course, should Arthur actually succeed in holding onto his throne… well, Agravaine would still have his place as his main advisor.

It was a win-win situation, really.

That wasn't to say he was happy being a pawn. He, too, could play at this game of castles and kings and as more than just a paltry spy, passing back and forth information at the behest of another. He, too, could strike a fatal blow to the heart of Camelot. And he had proved that yesterday.

But now, seeing Morgana's response, he was unsure how much, if any, he wanted to lay to claim to a role in these developments. Part of her appeared pleased at this turn of events, but another part…

Morgana's head finally snapped into place, and a smirk of victory settled itself firmly onto her face. "Yes. I'll do it."

"Do what, my lady?" Agravaine asked cautiously.

"I know my dear brother. He probably believes Merlin didn't _mean_ to kill him. But I know Merlin better than that. _I_ shall find Merlin first. And when I do, we shall see if for once we can get him to actually succeed in killing something for a change…"

"Do you think that's wise, my lady? What if the one he attempts to kill next is you?"

"Do you think I cannot handle myself against a simple serving boy?" she snapped viciously. "Now go, before someone starts to suspect you, and you're no longer of any use to me. That would be a pity, wouldn't it?"

* * *

**A/N: So, I really didn't like that Agravaine had no motivation in the show. It's like they said "Oh, crap, we need another villain so Morgana has someone to talk to. Oh, you'll do." He just kinda shows up hating Uther with the whole "You killed my sister. Prepare to die" shtick, but Arthur didn't actually ****_do_**** anything to him, not even subconsciously like with Morgana. So I tried to fix him a bit.**

**Also, have I mentioned I have a ****_grave mental affliction?_**** Be watching for a one-shot or two to pop up from me over the next few days (I promise, they will always be accompanied by more of this). Because I have attention span problems and can't focus on one thing at a time...**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I have wifi again! Kinda. They said they "put a patch on it, but it's not a permanent solution," whatever that means. They don't really care to rush I guess, since it's the summer, and it's just a few international students.**

**We're getting closer to more of my favorite chapters (okay, these next three I just adore, all for different reasons), so expect maybe two today, and one or two tomorrow.**

**Let me know if the formatting of the last section of this chapter is hard to read and I'll fix it. It's supposed to be a flashback, so I used a different format, but if you can't read it, I'll change it to make it easier to read.**

**Keep reviewing and PMing to let me know your thoughts and ideas! You all are awesome! Even just seeing the views is amazing (though how chapter 5 has the most views will forever be a mystery to me).**

* * *

Chapter Seven

Merlin jerked awake like a startled rabbit.

The action banged his head against the rock outcropping of his hiding place, and he hissed in agony. It was nothing compared to the ache that filled the rest of his body, which he had run to the bone until not even the light provided by his magic could make up for the dullness of his mind, and he passed out in the little hidey-hole, scrunched up in as tiny a ball as he could manage.

His stomach growled. Desperate to do something, anything, that might pass for normal activity, Merlin dug into his satchel for the large clothful of berries he'd picked yesterday. Most of them had fallen out of the cloth, so that they simply pooled in the bottom of his bag, which had somehow become filled with a layer of dust. He tried to brush off the worst of the grime that had gathered on the food. They tasted a bit gritty, but it was better than nothing, and at least his head and body were starting to ache a tiny bit less now that he had had some nourishment. He didn't eat all of them, unsure when he'd be able to stop for more.

With his hunger quelled, however, his heartbeat had started to pick up again, and he remembered that he had no time for normal. He had to get moving. They were going to find him, and if they found him, they would kill him.

Like he had killed Arthur.

So Merlin kept running.

Merlin knew these woods well. He should, he'd been dragged out into them often enough for one reason or another. That wasn't to say they never gave him surprises. He was very careful, for example, to an eye out for bandit camps or slavers who might be skulking about, waiting to catch lost travelers unawares. Just because he had his magic didn't make him invulnerable; he could still be killed…

_Need to hide. They're going to kill me. I killed Arthur. They're going to kill me._

Merlin didn't stop until he finally simply fell to the ground in exhaustion. His head spun dizzily, and he felt hollow. He dragged his body up to lean against a mossy wall, his chest pounding. He needed to calm himself down. He was stronger than this, wasn't that what everyone was always telling him?

_No, they're always telling you what an idiot you are. An idiot and a coward and monster and how you're going to get yourself killed one day; they're going to kill you now…_

Merlin gripped his head in his hands and gave himself a violent shake. This wasn't helping. Perhaps he should try not thinking so much. Desperately he grubbed his hand through his bag again; maybe he would feel better for some food.

"Can I help you, my dear?"

Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn't heard the door open; indeed, he hadn't known the door was _there_.

"Are you alright?"

A woman stood in the moss-covered doorway, peering down at him. Her lined face was etched with concern, framed in graying black hair. Her dress was well-worn and stained with dirt and burns in a few places. She looked to be about his mother's age. The woman kept herself well hidden behind the door, as if so that she might snap it shut in an instant should he turn out to be a wild ruffian. She probably saw a lot of those around these parts.

He was apparently passing her anti-wild ruffian test even as he sat there staring up her, though, because soon she was opening the door further, squatting down beside him and taking him gently by the arm. "Come on inside, love. You look like you've caught a bit of the ague. There's a dear. We'll fix you right up."

She led him over to a rickety bed, helping him to lie down, divesting him of his bag. "There, now. Isn't that better? How about I make you something to eat?"

Merlin was too tired to argue. Now that he was no longer running, his entire body ached once more, and he wasn't sure he could make it start moving again. The bed she had given him was extremely comfortable. He found he must have even fallen asleep on it, for it seemed moments later she was handing him a bowl of hot soup.

"It's not much, I'm afraid, but I had to make do. Take care not to burn yourself, dear."

Merlin brought a spoonful up to his lips, attempting to blow on it obediently, though it came out as more of a pathetic _phh_. He tested a drop on his tongue before pouring the rest in his mouth. It appeared to be an herb soup. Merlin had never had one before, but he supposed it must be alright. Surely this woman must have made it before. She watched him with a close eye as he ate, obviously making sure he didn't try and slurp too quickly and burn his tongue. His hands were shaking as he lifted the spoon, spilling more than he managed to get in his mouth. Eventually she took pity on him, liberating him of both bowl and spoon, ignoring his protests as she began to fed him. When he was done with the first bowl she pushed seconds on him, even though he honestly wanted to tell her he needed to get moving again. Only when the last drop was gone from her pot did she take the utensils away.

Merlin knew he had wasted far too much time in this hut… hovel… place. He was endangering this kind woman. They would still be looking for him. "I need to go," he stammered, trying to roll off the bed, searching around for his satchel. "Thank you for the food."

She shushed him, pushing him back down with light hands. "Nonsense. You're staying here for the night. You haven't even noticed you're injured, have you?"

He hadn't. "What? Where?"

"Your arm. See? You have a cut right there."

Indeed there was a slash across his upper arm. _It must have happened during the fight. Before… Before…_

Merlin's breathing had picked up again, and the woman patted his leg deftly to calm him. "It's alright, dear. I told you, you can stay here. No one will find you here. You didn't even notice me here at first, now did you?"

That was certainly true, he hadn't. He let the woman take bandages from his bag (Gaius always insisted he be prepared for anything) and wrap them around his wound, speaking calmingly to him the whole time.

"No one ever notices me here. Life in the woods isn't for everyone, but I like it well enough. Living in the Valley of the Fallen Kings, now, what would drive an old woman to do that, you ask? Well, that's for me to know and you to not. Suffice it to say I wanted some adventure. Now, love, you just rest here as long as you like. I'll protect you, I promise. Everything will be fine."

He lay back on the bed again. His head was getting heavier as she spoke, and he decided he was going to take her offer simply because his body couldn't go on. "Wait…" he mumbled through thick lips. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm not anyone, dear. But you can call me Ophelia. _Now shhh…"_

* * *

_"Merlin, what's wrong? What happened?"_

_"Arthur, that's what happened." Merlin slammed the armor and weapons he carried into the armory down on a table with a crash, ignoring that half of the pieces spilled to the ground._

_Lancelot put a hand on his shoulder for comfort. He'd seen theses outbursts before. "What happened this time?"_

_"He actually __**thinks**__ that __**Morgana**__," Merlin spat the name, yet Lancelot couldn't help but notice it was filled more with pain than hate, "was being __**enchanted**__ when she took over Camelot with Morgause. He can't even see that it's __**his own stupid fault**__. If he didn't __**hate magic **__so __**darn much**__ than __**maybe**__ she wouldn't have felt the need to be so scared he and his father were going to __**kill her for it**__. Then __**maybe**__ she wouldn't be quite so __**spiteful!**__ Hmm? Did his __**highness**__ ever think of __**that?**__"_

_Lancelot merely sighed and let him rant. He knew this wasn't easy for Merlin, never had been. And Arthur certainly didn't help, using the boy as his target practice for getting his thoughts out of his head. Lancelot didn't really know what he could do to help, but the least he could do was perform the same function for Merlin and hope it took some of the stress off, or at least enough to keep him from exploding in the same way at Arthur, who was never going to take it nearly in the same stride as he would._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Remember how I said I really liked these next few chapters? Well, I ****_really like these next few chapters. _****Things are about to get interesting. As if things weren't interesting enough before.**

* * *

Chapter Eight

It was the third day of the search. Once again Gwaine and Lancelot had slept outside, though this time they had at least come to an agreement to split the watch. They had had to stop for an hour to hunt the night before, much to both their vexations, but even Gwaine had to admit they couldn't go on forever on empty stomachs. He also knew it would have taken longer to return to the castle to get food than to trap a rabbit or two and cook it over a fire. After all, if they went back, they might get stopped by someone who would ask for a report about where they had been, and that would lead to questions they had neither the time nor inclination to answer.

"Gwaine! Lancelot!"

The two knights slowed as they heard their names being called. Soon Leon and Elyan charged into view astride their own horses. They carried their swords, like normal, but they also had bedrolls and packs and looked set for a search. Gwaine wondered for a moment just as he had for the past two days with Lancelot which side they were on.

"We were sent out yesterday to give you some help and to tell you the prince is going to be okay. Gaius was able to patch him up."

Gwaine saw Lancelot breathe a huge sigh of relief at Leon's words. He had to admit he, too, felt better at hearing the news. He really did actually like Arthur, even if he _was_ a noble. Not to mention, it would be much easier to convince Merlin not to try to turn himself in once they found him if Arthur were still alive.

"We've looked all over to the north and east, but there's no sign of him. We were just about to head into the Valley of the Fallen Kings."

_Gee, thanks a lot, Lancelot. Got an executioner's axe all ready in your pack with you, too, do you?_

Leon must have spotted the scowl that played across Gwaine's face. "Arthur's orders are to detain Merlin, but not to harm him. He wants to know what's going on as much as anyone."

"Oh really? That why he's got everybody out here hunting for him?"

"We're not _hunting_ for him," Elyan retorted, though he looked a bit shamefaced. "We're _looking._ You're out here, too, Gwaine. You want to find Merlin just as much as we do."

"Because he's my _friend._" _And I won't let you lot take him out without a fight_.

"He's our friend, too," Lancelot assured him, which of course, served the purpose of having the entirely opposite effect. Gwaine stormed away from the others.

They didn't quite split up from there, but they did spread out a bit, traveling within shouting distance. Gwaine took the opportunity to size up each of his comrades, calculating the complications that would arise with each should they find Merlin while they were all still together.

Elyan would be the easiest to take care of. He was certainly coming along and had handled himself well against the mercenaries, but compared to his own skills, Elyan was still just a kid playing soldier. He also seemed to harbour an odd anger against Merlin akin to almost a personal slight for his actions that Gwaine didn't understand.

Leon, on the other hand, would be the most difficult. He wasn't captain of the guard for nothing. Not only was he a proficient fighter, but he was extremely loyal to Arthur. He had been friends with Merlin as long the prince, but his duty to the Crown would win out and he would arrest the boy before he would let his personal feelings get in the way.

Lancelot was the wild card. Gwaine still didn't know how the man felt about this whole thing. He did know the knight was an extremely skilled warrior, perhaps even better than himself, and if it came down to him and Merlin against all three of the knights, it was not a battle they were going to win. He had to figure out if Lancelot was on their side or not.

Gwaine wondered just how long Arthur was willing to let his knights out to search. If he had sent Leon and Elyan out too, clearly he meant them to be gone for a while, but if they didn't find Merlin soon, would he let them continue to look until he was found? And if he did, would he be doing so because he was concerned for the welfare of his friend or because he wanted to be sure the fugitive was brought to justice?

The Valley of the Fallen Kings was a strange place. Rather more jungle-esque than the rest of the surrounding area, it was filled for some reason with decrepit moss-covered statues of, well, kings. No one had ever been able to give Gwaine a good reason why that was. Nor why Arthur insisted it was safe every time they traveled through it, despite the litany Merlin could rattle off of times they'd been attacked there.

Why Merlin would choose to find sanctuary here, Gwaine wasn't really sure, but they had already looked everywhere else.

The sound of Lancelot's voice caught Gwaine's ear. Where was it coming from? He followed it down a slope. Was that a door? It was! But what on earth was Lancelot doing skulking behind a door? Gwaine quietly pried it open a bit. Lancelot's voice carried through a bit more clearly.

The knight appeared to be hiding behind a chair. Literally hiding. He held it up in front of him like a shield, his sword tossed aside a few paces away. His conversational partner was not in view, nor could Gwaine make out what they said, only able to make out a bit of high-pitched gibberish mumbling in between Lancelot's pleading. It wasn't hard to figure out to whom he was speaking, however.

"-found you here; the others will, too."

"No, Merlin. I promise, I'm not going to let that happen."

"No, I don't know who that is Merlin; I'm sorry, I can't find them for you."

"Merlin, stop! Merlin, please, listen to me! I'm trying to help you!"

"Merlin, you have to talk to me. Did Arthur find out about your magic? Did he threaten you? Why didn't you tell me?"

Wait, Merlin had magic? Well, he supposed that explained more than it didn't. Like why that bridge keeper said "courage, strength, and _magic._" Of all the things that had happened in the past couple days, Gwaine had to admit this revelation bothered him the least. He wasn't like the prince of Camelot, forever cursing sorcerers. In fact, he honestly didn't get the big deal.

Gwaine wondered if the problem was that Arthur just wasn't as well traveled as he was. Before he became a knight, he had travelled far and wide, in Camelot and beyond. He'd been to lands where sorcery was illegal, frowned upon, and even openly practiced. He'd been healed (often from a hangover), had his fortune told, given and been given a love potion or two, and yes, been attacked a time or two as well, but he had seen the good along with the bad. Arthur hadn't. He'd grown up in a bubble of magical evil. Gwaine had told Arthur as much a dozen times, but his tales of the good experiences he'd had were brushed off as just that: tales.

He wondered if Arthur even realized he was probably surrounded by sorcerers on a daily basis. Gwaine could name several himself. Amoung much of the older population of Camelot, who had been alive before the Purge and remembered the days when magic was not a thing to be feared, it was simply an unspoken thing. Everyone _knew_ that Hilda the washerwoman could get the whites the whitest, but no one said how. Everyone _knew_ that Jiminy was the fastest at cleaning the fireplace, but no one said how. Now part of Gwaine wondered if they all knew that a certain someone could polish armour the shiniest and they simply weren't saying how…

At least this conversation answered Gwaine's question about which side Lancelot was on.

Carefully he opened the door to the little hovel and slipped inside. Lancelot's back was to him, but while Merlin was facing him, he didn't really seem to be seeing anything, even Lancelot, brandishing his little dagger at the air and pacing the room like a caged animal. His mumbling was growing faster and faster and Gwaine wondered how Lancelot was getting any intelligent words from it to hold up his end of the conversation or if he was just making it up as he went along. The only ones he himself could catch were "kill me… kill me…" over and over again and the names "Arthur" and "Fia" (which he wasn't even entirely convinced was a word, let alone a name) tossed in here and there. Merlin's eyes were rolling in his head and his entire body was trembling wildly. Gwaine was amazed that somehow he was able to continue staying upright.

Gwaine crept around so he was on Merlin's left, away from his weapon hand. "Merlin…" he whispered softly.

Merlin jumped, letting out a scream of terror. Instantly the boy pounced at Lancelot, apparently unable to tell where the voice was coming from, wielding the knife at him, slamming the rickety chair aside and slashing at his chest. Gwaine threw himself at him, grabbing his arms and trying to wrench them behind his back, but Merlin swung his dagger down, sinking it into Gwaine's thigh. Gwaine let go with a howl.

Merlin ran at Lancelot again, but suddenly he was sent sprawling under the weight of two heavy knights. Leon and Elyan had appeared out of nowhere inside the hut, pinning him to the ground.

Merlin shrieked, squirming like a madman to escape, but they grasped his wrists, wrenching the dagger away and restraining his arms firmly behind his back as they. His face was contorted with panic and rage, so that Gwaine hardly recognized the young man in front of him.

The effect was so complete that he nearly forgot his decision not to allow Merlin to be brought back to Camelot for punishment. Looking at him, however, he knew: this couldn't be the friend he'd grown to know so well.

"What's _wrong_ with him?"

"I don't know," Leon admitted, panting a bit under the strain of holding the frantically flailing young man. "I really, truly don't know."

* * *

**Fun Fact Time! Since I know you need one after that.**

**I like to actually make sure my scenes will realistically work in real life. That's right. I actually made people act all this out. You have not lived until this conversation takes place amoungst your cousins: "Okay, now I need you to attempt to stab me with your scissors while I'm holding your arms behind your back so I can see how many access points you'd have."**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello, my lovelies! So, you remember how you all adore me because I update so quickly and often and I'm just generally awesome? Well, please try to remember that awesome part. I have finals this next week (I've been taking summer classes to try not to be so bored), so I will likely not be updating again until the weekend. Sorry! I promise, I will make it worth the wait! I might put up one more chapter today? We'll see.**

**Now I would like to give a shout-out to **Mika271170**, who has reviewed every chapter for me so far. You're amazing! And to all of you who send me reviews and PMs, it's like Christmas in July (which is apparently a very popular thing in America)!**

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Chapter Nine

They had to knock him out. Gwaine surprised them all by being the one to do it, bringing his sword hilt down on the boy's head before collapsing himself on the nearby bed, his stabbed leg erupting in fiery agony. But Merlin had opened his mouth again and the words that had started spewing out had gotten just a bit clearer. Gwaine didn't know much about magic, but he knew enough to know that if Merlin was able to finish what he was trying to say, in his current state there were going to be consequences for all of them.

Lancelot's eyebrows had raised, and he met his eyes with a measured look. There was trepidation there, and Gwaine wondered if Lancelot realized he'd overheard him trying to reason with Merlin and was going to rat them out. He just gave him an imperceptible shake of his head. The two of them were going to have to talk later. Merlin's unconsciousness wasn't going to last forever. They had to come up with some kind of plan for when he woke up. If Gwaine _was_ going to allow Merlin to be returned to Camelot, he was still going to do his darnedest to protect him, regardless of whoever _he _was anymore.

Gwaine didn't like to think that Merlin was stuck in his murderous state, but that appeared to be his current state, at least. Yet, murderous wasn't how Gwaine would describe him. _Petrified_, now that was more the word. Like he thought they were about to hack him to pieces at any second, and his only option was to cut them down to stop them get from getting to him first.

Elyan helped Gwaine limp outside, then bound his leg while Lancelot and Leon carried Merlin out and lashed him to his horse. Blood dripped from Lancelot's chest, but he waved Elyan off when he turned to help him. "It's just a graze. It'll be fine."

Leon went back inside the hovel and picked up the dagger from where it had been cast aside after the knights had tackled Merlin. It was a fine quality knife, polished wooden handle with gold finishes, steel sharpened to a deadly point. It was definitely not something Merlin could have afforded on his own, not with what Arthur paid him. "Where'd he even _get _this?"

"Arthur gave it to him after Morgana took over the castle," Lancelot explained tiredly. "Thought it was about time he ought to have something to defend himself with. I think it's… well, he told me it once was supposed to have belonged to _her_."

They all knew who he meant by "her." Leon held the dagger out from himself as though it were cursed.

"No irony there," Elyan snorted, looking around at his bleeding comrades.

"You got a problem with Merlin?" Gwaine growled, shoving himself wearily away from the knight's support. "If you do, you can take it up with me."

Elyan just snorted and rolled his eyes.

"No one is going to be taking anything up with anyone," Leon said, eyeing them both warningly and tucking the dagger securely into his belt. "Elyan, you heard what Gaius said. There are plenty of reasons why Merlin might have done what he has. Lady Morgana may or may not have anything to do with it. Gwaine, you know that we are taking Merlin back to be tried, and we have to let the judgment stand, whatever it may be."

Gwaine thought that was the most diplomatically BS'd way to say "Merlin could be innocent but I'll let him hang if I have to" he'd ever heard in his life and wanted to argue in his friend's defense again, but another wave of dizziness reminded him he was still losing blood by the pint, and he had no choice but to let arms steady him on either side.

He allowed himself to be loaded up onto his horse. They didn't move quite yet, as Leon insisted that Lancelot allow his chest wound to be tended. Once it, too, had been bound with a long strip of cloth, they began the trek back towards Camelot. Lancelot led Merlin's horse, Gwaine making sure he stayed nice and close. Elyan kept pointedly away, either because he didn't want to be near Merlin or because of the glares Gwaine was sending him, Gwaine didn't really care.

Making sure Leon, too, was out of hearing range, Gwaine whispered, "How long have you known? About Merlin having magic?"

Lancelot glanced over nervously, as if to gauge how Gwaine seemed to be feeling about the revelation, and for a moment he wondered if the other man would try to deny it. Finally he just shrugged. "Since a little while after I met him."

"Why'd he tell you and not me? I'm his friend! He can trust me, too!"

Lancelot shrugged again, this time having the grace to look a little guilty. "I only found out by accident. We were fighting a griffin. He enchanted my lance so I could defeat it. I put two and two together."

Gwaine thought back the first time he'd met Merlin and the prince, during a bar fight. Well, it was simply in a bar, but then he'd initiated the fight. Actually, they were ones who were exacerbating the circumstances; he'd just thrown the first punch… but regardless. Merlin had been there. Things had been flying around the room. Certain things, however, had not seemed to seemed to have come from any person in particular. Had that been…? Gwaine was starting to feel a little foolish. Perhaps he had been a bit blinder than he had ever thought.

"Does anybody else know?" _Or am I the only idiot around here?_

"Just me. And Gaius, of course. He… he wanted to tell people. He just didn't know how."

Part of Gwaine could understand that. But another part was still hurt Merlin hadn't trusted him enough. At least not as much as Lancelot, obviously.

"But, Gwaine," Lancelot lowered his voice further, "that means if there's some kind of spell on him, he's the only one that can undo it."

"That's assuming we can convince him he even _wants_ to undo it. At the moment his listening skills don't really seem up to par."

"You know, I don't think you get how this whole back and forth thing goes. If I come up with a problem; you're supposed to come with a solution. Not another problem."

"Sorry. Let's try that again."

"I _said, _he's the only one that can do undo any potential curse."

"Well, that sucks. Guess we'll have to find another sorcerer. Too bad Uther kinda killed them all."

"You're no help at all," Lancelot scowled.

Gwaine's heart knew that he really should be trying to help, but it was also busy trying to pump its remaining blood out of his body, and his mind was growing increasingly fuzzy, as was his connection to the rest of his body. "Aw. Does this mean we can be friends now?"

"Were we not friends before?"

"We weren't ezatly co-captains of the friendship ship. The fr'nd ship!"

Lancelot smiled forlornly in spite of himself. "Well, my friend, if we make it out of this mess, we'll see if you still want to sail that ship or not, eh?" Taking the reins from the now unconscious man's hands, he flipped them over to Leon, who caught them easily.

So Gwaine knew now. He and Merlin had actually discussed it before, adding someone else to the "Merlin has Magic" club. After all, Lancelot knew, and the world hadn't imploded yet. At least, that was what he reasoned, but poor Merlin had spent so much of his life in fear of being caught and killed that the idea of voluntarily telling even one other person terrified him, so Lancelot hadn't pushed him.

But they had discussed the idea in theory plenty of times. Several people they were able to dismiss out of hand, for obvious reasons.

Arthur, of course, was both the first and last person Merlin wanted to tell. He hated lying to his closest friend, but even Lancelot had recognized if the prince knew, Arthur would be forced to either kill him in accordance to the laws or exile him in order to protect him. Since Merlin was determined to continue with this destiny of his, he had to be alive and in Camelot. So lie he must.

Of the knights, Leon was out as well for the same reasons. While he and Merlin had known each other nearly as long as Merlin and Arthur had and were almost as close, the man was fiercely loyal to the Crown, and while he might have hated himself for it then and later, the chances were high he would have turned Merlin in. It was nothing against Merlin; Leon probably would have turned _himself_ in if he one day discovered he was a sorcerer.

While Percival and Lancelot were close, Merlin didn't really know the new man very well yet, though he had grown to like him and the same went with Gwen's brother, Elyan, who he knew a bit better due to his own relationship with the knight's sister (which may have accounted for the bit of rift between them now; Gwen had seen fit to use Merlin as a sympathetic ear for all her frustrations about her brother). While one day he might come to trust them enough to tell them his secret, that day had not yet come.

There were two, however, that Merlin had not thrown out of contention right away. The first had been Gwen. At first Merlin had been a bit hesitant about including Gwen in the list at all, because he didn't want her to get hurt, and knowing about a person with magic was oftentimes just as bad as having it in the first place (the fact that Lancelot knew was as much a bond as a bone of contention between the two). Lancelot had protested that Arthur would never let anything like that happen to her merely for keeping his secret, but he'd soon found that reasoning with a warlock was not something to do if you wanted to keep a sane mind. Finally he let Gwen be set aside for the reason that it simply wasn't fair to ask her to keep the lie from Arthur.

The last person on their list had been Gwaine. Part of Merlin had actually really wanted to tell Gwaine. It was Lancelot who had come up with the protestations against it. The man was a drunkard. One pint too many, one slip of the tongue and it could all come out. Lancelot didn't want to think as a knight or a friend Gwaine would give Merlin up so easily, but he didn't want to take that risk. Although he himself wasn't one to often frequent the taverns, he'd been there a time or two, and he'd seen Gwaine there every time, surrounded by empty tankards. While Lancelot thought the man could handle his drink admirably well, if he had a secret of his own to bequeath, this was not the first person he would think to bestow it upon. As Merlin's sole confidant, he had planned to maintain his advice to keep Gwaine well out of it.

But the sorcerer was out of the hat now, so to say.

Lancelot couldn't say he was pleased about it. Gwaine had stopped Merlin from incriminating himself by shutting him up for the moment, but Merlin had stabbed him. There was no telling whether the relationship between the two would be the same or not now. Gwaine was a passionate man, ruled more by his heart than his head. An irritated Gwaine might very well be goaded into selling Merlin out if he thought his friend had turned to the dark side.

No, Lancelot couldn't let that happen. It was his fault Merlin was like this, after all. He was _supposed _to have been looking out for him.

He'd promised.

Lancelot tightened his grip on Merlin's reins. _The friendship ship may be seeing a bit of a mutiny in the near future, my co-captain._

* * *

**A/N: My poor babies. I just want you to all be happy and love each other and unicorns and rainbows! But I'm sorry, dear readers. I just don't ****_do_**** unicorns and rainbows. I honestly don't know how.**

**And yes, that is the dagger from The Crystal Cave, which I had to boast up a bit, because honestly, I don't know what Arthur was thinking. Personally, I think he would be offended if someone bought that thing for ****_him_****. Merlin was right when he said it was boring. I'm assuming it must have been good quality just because Arthur was the one who bought it (or had someone buy it).**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I did say maybe one more (I have a problem. Someone stop me before I fail this psych class). I swear, though; this will be the last one! But as a present, it's twice as long as normal!**

**Answer to the guest review: Why doesn't Merlin just use magic? Well, you'll just have to wait and see. I promise; there is an answer. An answer that isn't just that I really love swinging knifes around, although I do (another fun fact: I actually can use a sword and a bow; Yae for Medieval drama camp!)**

**However, is there an answer to why I adore whump so much? Probably not. Be prepared. We're all going to need a group hug after this chapter. **

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Chapter Ten

Merlin was going to kill him when he woke up.

Even if he came to and was suddenly his happy-go-lucky self again, Lancelot knew that would be the case. Because he had broken just about every friendship and honor and probably every possible code out there with one little action.

He had drugged Merlin.

He felt terrible about it, he really did. He hadn't wanted to. But he had panicked. As they had neared Camelot, Merlin had started to stir. Not enough to start talking again, but enough that by the time they were ready to put him in the dungeons, he knew the boy would be ready to, so Lancelot had done the only thing he could think of. He had jumped off his horse, raced to Gaius's chambers (thankfully no one was there to see him), grabbed a couple vials of a shelf, and raced down to the dungeons. He was just in time. Or perhaps just a moment too late. Merlin was just starting to get his awareness back and was fully able to stare at him with wide, betrayal filled eyes as Lancelot forced the potion down his throat.

"I'm sorry, my friend. I'm so sorry."

Shaking slightly, Lancelot handed the extra vial to a guard, instructing him to give it to Merlin should he wake up before the prince was ready to talk to him.

Merlin was going to hate him for this, but that was okay; Lancelot already hated himself.

At least no one had been around to see him do it. Leon and Elyan had left immediately after locking him up, too guilty about doing so to stick around. Lancelot thought he might feel too guilty to leave, but the ache in his chest wasn't just from shame, and it reminded him he had to go see to his wound. Sparing once last glance back at his unconscious friend, he made his way back to the physician's chambers.

Gaius was there now, tending to Gwaine's leg. Gwaine seemed to be in the midst of relating everything that had gone on in the woods. Lancelot wondered how much "Gwaine flair" he was adding to the story and how much editing he was going to have to do. Knowing Gwaine, he had a terrible feeling it was going to be quite a bit.

"And then when I tried to stop him from doing the same to old Lance that he did to Arthur, he shanked me in the leg. There's gratitude for you! You'd think the guy would be grateful not to have another friend to list on his body count!"

Lancelot winced. If only Gwaine knew just how many friends Merlin actually had on his "body count list". Far too many to make jokes about, that was for certain. He was glad Arthur hadn't been added. Merlin would never have forgiven himself if he'd killed his closest friend, destiny or no.

"Now, Sir Gwaine," Gaius chastised with a tone of long suffering, "I know you haven't been here for any of the discussion while you've been out searching, an act I'd like to thank you for undertaking, but you should know that it has already been decided that Merlin is not being held responsible for any of his actions these past couple of days. We're not quite sure yet what is going on, but Arthur is currently working on a method of finding out."

"Good. 'Cause if that princess thought for even one second he was going to kill Merlin for poking him with that toothpick he had another think coming–"

"_Gwaine_–"

"Gaius?" Lancelot decided it was time to step in and make his presence known. "I thought you should know. We put Merlin in the dungeons. He's unconscious, and it looks like he's got a wound on his arm, but it seems to have been tended to already." He didn't mention his own role in Merlin's unconscious state.

Gaius nodded. "I'll go down to see to him in a moment." He turned back to Gwaine. "You stay here and off that leg. Lancelot, off with your shirt; I'll get you something for that scratch. I take it Merlin did that, too?"

Lancelot nodded in agreement. "He didn't mean to." He and Gwaine exchanged disgusted faces as they realized they had echoed each other.

"It's like he's afraid everyone's going to kill him and he's got to get there first," Gwaine explained, voicing the theory he'd come up with earlier.

Gaius seemed to mull this over a bit while slathering Lancelot with a noxious cream then wrapping his chest tightly with bandages. "Perhaps… but surely not…" he muttered to himself.

The knights were about to ask for further explanation when Arthur burst in, followed by Leon, Elyan and Percival. His arm was still bound in a sling to prevent him from jarring his shoulder. He'd wanted to ditch it after the first night, but Guinevere had given him a stern lecture about princes who didn't do as their physicians commanded, observed by a horribly smirking Percival, so the sling had stayed.

That same Guinevere had happened to be standing next to him in his chambers when he received the news that Merlin had been found and was back in the castle. She had begged, but he had forbidden her from going to see him, and she had slapped him before stalking away, declaring she'd find a way down to the dungeons ("where she could not believe he let them lock away his best friend like a common criminal, Arthur Pendragon!") herself.

Arthur now held in his hands a set of manacles, his face triumphant. He held them out for his audience to see. They looked perfectly ordinary, except for the tiny ruins etched into their sides and running all the way around them. As he set them down on the table, Gaius frowned deeply and drew back a bit.

"Sire, where did you find those?"

"In the vaults. During one of my father's more… What I mean to say is my father once suggested that perhaps… Well, you see, they're supposed to strip a person of all enchantments or other magical workings," he finished lamely. He wanted to say that his father had once begged him to find Morgana so they could try to use them on her; in case it was a mistake, and she had simply been possessed to try to take over Camelot. He wasn't so sure about that, though he had to admit the idea had stuck with him for a few days. "If we put them on Merlin, they should rid him of whatever it is that ails him and bring him back to normal."

_Unless they really __**have**__ kidnapped his mother_. But Arthur really doubted that was the case. Merlin was more the type to do something stupid like try and rescue her, not do something stupid like actually go through with their demands.

"Are you sure you've read the warning label on these things?" Gwaine asked hesitantly. "It's not going to rip a piece of his soul out with it or something?"

"Of course not," Arthur snapped, though he began to look a bit worried. He glanced up at Gaius. "You've seen them used before, haven't you?"

"_Yes_," Gaius began slowly. "Once or twice, many, many years ago. But those were only in times where no other choice was given."

"I think we can all agree that is the case here."

That was the decision Arthur had spent the last few days coming to. There was no arguing it had been an arduous one. After all, every important decision he'd ever had to make before this he'd had someone to talk to about it. His father. Morgana. Agravaine. Leon. Merlin. Now he had no one. He still didn't want to bring Agravaine into this, not yet, not until they were sure of at least something. He considered talking to his father, even just to get his thoughts out of his head, but Arthur wasn't sure he could handle two heartbreaking subjects at once. But then their previous "discussion" had come back to him, and suddenly he knew it was what he had to do.

Because when he went to the root of the problem, it all seemed to come down to either Merlin was still good, or Merlin had turned against him, and Arthur needed with all his heart to believe Merlin was still on his side. This was the only way he could think of to guarantee that was so.

"It will cause him great pain, sire. Much more than any person could hope to bear."

Gaius had to say it, not because the actual stripping of the potential enchantment or possession would create much pain, although it would, but because of how he knew the cuffs to work. In order to remove the magic that did not belong to Merlin, the manacles would have to remove _all_ the magic in the body, sort out the bad, then give back Merlin's. Gwaine's jest had actually not been far from the truth, although few in the room could know it. It would indeed be like ripping out a piece of Merlin's soul and putting it back in again. And with the sheer amount of magic Merlin had… Gaius was deeply afraid of the consequences.

"Maybe this is all a mistake," Gwaine piped up weakly. "Maybe he just really wants a raise."

Arthur was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable with the plan he had come up with, but he didn't really have a better one. He swallowed hard. "Is there anything you can give him? To help him get through it? Maybe if he were unconscious."

Gaius hesitated. "Perhaps. It's not likely to help very much, but I can try."

"Do it. Then once he's better maybe we can finally figure out what's going on."

* * *

"Merlin… Merlin, wake up. Come on, dear, you must wake up, quickly now!"

Merlin's eyelids felt heavy, but the voice was so insistent. His entire body throbbed, as it always did these past few days, and his head pounded. His vision spun merrily in front of him as he fought for consciousness.

Ophelia was in front of him, reaching for him and shaking him roughly through the bars.

Wait. Bars. Metal bars. Dungeons. He was in the dungeons, in Camelot.

_You're in Camelot. They're going to kill you. You killed Arthur. They're going to kill you. They're going to kill you._

He must have started hyperventilating, because the next thing he knew, Ophelia had slapped his face and was grabbing him again, forcing him to focus on her. "You must listen to me, Merlin. We haven't much time. They're coming down here. Are you listening? I'm going to help you. They're going to come down here and try to hurt you, but no matter what happens, just remember: I'm not going to let them harm you. Do you hear me? You are _not_ going to die." He merely whimpered in response, his eyes rolling in his head, and she gripped him tighter. "Merlin_, I will not let you die._"

Footsteps echoed in the distance, growing nearer. "I have to go, but I'll be nearby. I'll return when they leave; I promise." With that, she slipped into the shadows and Merlin scrambled away from the bars as the shadows grew larger and people approached his cell, cowering in the corner.

"Merlin?"

No, that wasn't right. That voice should not be there; that should not be possible. She was right; they were going to hurt him. She was wrong; they were going to kill him.

_I killed you. They're going to kill me. I killed you. I killed you. I killed you._

He didn't realize he was repeating his mantra out loud as he rocked himself back and forth, curled up in his little ball. He closed his eyes tightly to block out the sight of the hazy shadows before him, and he had become too lost in his own head to hear the door to his cell being opened. When the hand landed on his arm, he barely registered it. However, when the voice murmured softly in his ear, "No, Merlin, it's alright; I'm still alive," it was then he began to take notice once more.

He screeched like a wild cat. Leaping up from his crouched position, he flung himself at the prince. Even in his sore state, he was able to easily wrestle the injured man to the ground. Blindly he clawed at him, but his advantage could not last for long. Seconds later he felt himself being dragged off by dozens of hands and shackled to the wall.

Others were helping Arthur to rise. Merlin hissed and tore his bonds as they helped the prince over to him. "I… I'm sorry, Merlin. I shouldn't have done that." He was wincing a bit from the pain of his reopened shoulder wound. "But don't worry, it's going to be okay now. We're going to make you better. Gaius?"

Arthur waited for Gaius to bring him the special manacles. He'd made a stupid move approaching Merlin on his own like that. Merlin had just look so _terrified_ upon seeing him, like he was a ghost; he'd thought perhaps the boy was afraid he was going to be killed for what this curse had made him do. Arthur had wanted to reassure him. He should have known better. The curse had fooled him. It wasn't gone yet and had only wanted a chance to try again. Lucky everyone had been there to stop him. _Lucky Merlin just isn't that great of an assassin._

Now the terror that had been on Merlin's face was multiplying ten-fold as it took in the objects in Arthur's hands. Merlin fought the shackles he currently wore, ripping the skin around his wrists. He kicked out ferociously at them, forcing them to step back, but soon his movements became so erratic that he was only tripping himself, so that for every kick he fell to the ground, tearing the skin around his wrists even more.

"Gaius, do something," Arthur begged.

But it was Lancelot who made the first move. He left the cell for hardly a moment, coming back with a vial. When Merlin spotted him, he began screaming again in earnest and got so worked up it took all of the knights to pin him to the wall so Gaius could give him the potion. Within seconds Merlin was slumped in their arms. Under Gaius's instructions, they unhooked him from his shackles and lay him on the ground. Immediately Arthur slapped the special manacles on him.

For a moment everything and everyone froze. They all watched with bated breath as they waited for something, anything, to happen. Only Gaius had any hint of what was to come, and really he could only have the barest inkling. Merlin had always been a mystery to him. Now was not the time to be expecting anything relating to him to go according to plan.

It started with a twitch. The tiniest twitch of a finger. Arthur let out a sigh of relief, clearly hoping that to be all that would happen, when all hell broke loose.

Merlin's body broke into wild seizures. His eyes were wide open, but he made no sound, simply staring off into the distance, his face completely blank, almost hollow. No one dared touch him, they could only watch in horror. At one point his foot brushed Percival's and the man jumped so badly he nearly sent both he and Leon stumbling to the ground. They weren't sure how long it went on for, but it seemed like hours, his muscles continuing to spasm painfully, until finally Merlin melted into a twitching puddle on the floor. The tics didn't appear to be going away anytime soon, either, every few seconds or so an arm or a leg giving another jolt.

"Sire," Gaius murmured once he found his voice again, a dreadful, croaking imitation of what it had been before. "Sire, I think it's over."

"But he's still moving." Arthur was determined to stay until the end. He wasn't sure if it was some kind of penance for what he'd just done to his friend or what, but he knew he had to do it.

"I know. I think… I think that will be permanent, I'm afraid. A side effect."

Arthur gaped. _What have I done?_ He shut his mouth into a grim line. No, he'd had to. He'd saved Merlin's life. Merlin would thank him later.

At least he prayed he would.

Arthur kneeled down by his twitching friend. Despite, or perhaps because of, everything, Merlin was still unconscious. Arthur ran his fingers through his friend's disheveled hair, grimy from his days on the run. "It's going to be okay now, Merlin," he whispered as he removed the cuffs, tossing them aside like poison. "I promise, I won't let this happen to you ever again." He looked up at the gathered men. "Let's get him out here."

He watched as Percival and Leon carefully picked Merlin up, creating a chair between their arms and carrying him as gently as they could out of the dungeon. Merlin lolled between them, limbs still jerking on and off. Leon winced as Merlin kicked him while they made their way up the stairs.

"I'm sorry, Gaius," Arthur hung his head as they followed the others to the physician's chambers.

"What for?"

"I should have looked after him better. This is my fault."

"No, Arthur. Merlin would never want you to think that. Whatever has happened, it isn't your fault any more than it was Merlin's fault, do you understand? For now you need to get some rest, then when you and Merlin awaken, you can find the one who did do this to him. Until then it will do neither of you any go to assign blame where it doesn't belong."

"But Merlin will wake up?"

The pause before Gaius's answer was much longer than Arthur could have ever wanted. "We shall have to wait and see."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I'm a bad person. Really. From now on you should just not believe me when I tell you I'm not going to update. Because I probably will. I can't help myself. You should see the self-flagellation (great English word) on my tumblr. On the bright side, I also finished five out of ten pages of my final paper! Four more days left to finish that and study for the exam!**

**And surprise updates are kind of like hugs, right?**

**(Oh, and by the way this isn't edited at all, so I apologize for that. I'll go back and do it when I end up procrastinating again tomorrow).**

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Gaius denied all offers –and partial demands on the part of the prince– to stay and watch over Merlin. Part of it was a parental need to take care of his ward. He wanted to be the one to be there for the boy who was like a son to him, to clean his wounds and watch over him while he slept, to protect him just in case any should change their minds about his innocence in this whole matter.

And another part…

A niggling had starting in Gaius's mind what felt like ages ago. He'd pushed it aside when Arthur had come in with those accursed manacles. Even the thought of those dreadful things sent a shudder through his spine. He wished he'd found some way to have them destroyed after the Purge. He would make sure they were destroyed now. Arthur had left them behind, reasonably not wanting to touch them again after removing them. Gaius would go retrieve them. He would get them and ensure they were never used again and most definitely never against his boy.

Gwaine, who had been forced to stay behind in the physician's chambers due his leg despite his colorful protests, stared in horror as his friend was carried past him into his room and to be laid upon his bed.

"What did you _do_?" he whispered.

When no one answered, he hobbled after them, weakly shoving around them for a better view. What he saw was not encouraging. Merlin's wrists were a literal bloody mess, the skin torn and weeping, his clothes covered in filth, both from his three day flight and his brief incarceration. The worst part, however was how although he appeared to be completely unconscious, his arms and leg were moving every once in a while of their own accord, as though he were in the midst of a nightmare.

As though they were all in a nightmare.

Gaius shuffled in, arms laden with poultices and bandages. "I know you all want to help, but what he needs now is space and rest. You can come see him later." No one pointed out he did not specify how much later.

Elyan stalked out, Leon leaving much more slowly. Percival gave a sad backward glance, taking Lancelot by the arm and practically dragging him out the door. Gwaine had plopped down on the floor –his leg had given out again– and was glaring daggers at Gaius, daring him to make him leave. Arthur, too, stubbornly stayed where he was.

"Sire, there is nothing you can do for him now."

"But-"

"Arthur, you must trust me." He decided it was time to use his trump card. "If Merlin wakes up and remembers what has happened, how do you think he is going to feel? I very much doubt that the first thing is he going to want to see is a reminder of what he has done."

That seemed to do the trick. Even Gwaine started to look guiltily towards the door, the twinge of his thigh a reminder that he wasn't the best first sight for sore eyes either. Arthur sighed heavily and looked again down at the prone body of his manservant, his good hand resting on his head, ruffling his hair absentmindedly. "I'll be back first thing in the morning, Gaius. I promise."

"Of course, sire. I expected no less. Though I can make no such promises."

Arthur's shoulders slumped, but he finally left, much to Gaius's relief. Gwaine looked up at him from his spot on the floor. "Should I go, too?" he mumbled.

"No, that's alright, Gwaine. You can stay. I need to keep an eye on you as well, anyway." He didn't need to mention he wasn't as angry with Gwaine as he was with the prince. Gwaine hadn't been the one to force those _things_ on Merlin. "Help me clean his wounds."

He passed over a clean cloth and they washed his wrists in silence, wrapping them in the bandages. It was hard work when every once in a while the hand they were holding would attempt to wrench from their grasp. Every time it happened Gwaine was sure it was something he had done, and that he was causing more harm than good. He was glad when Gaius proclaimed his work satisfactory and he could switch to bathing the rest of Merlin, stripping him of the remaining rags of the blue shirt and redressing him in a nightshirt, then getting to work gently scrubbing his face.

Gaius inspected the cut on Merlin's upper arm with a deep frown. It had been previously tended to, as Lancelot had said. However, the one who had done it –for Gaius had been a physician for most of his life; he knew the difference between bandages applied by another and one applied by one's self– seemed to have mixed experience in the healing arts. The wound was heavy with infection, a slight smell rising up. Gaius was slightly worried that he might end up losing the arm, and he could only pray that Merlin's magic could heal it. It had obviously not be cleaned out prior to being wrapped. The bandages themselves seemed to be covered in grit. Yet the style with which they had been wrapped indicated a level of training beyond the bare basics the knights received, or a simple peasant. And then there was the fact that so far as Gwaine had told him, Merlin had been completely alone when they had found him, with the treatment already completed. So who had done his bindings?

Gaius did his best to clean out the worst of the infection, extremely glad Merlin stayed unconscious for the process. Gwaine, however, ended up leaving, unable to stomach either the sight or smell. Gaius couldn't blame him. While he had seen much, much worse in his days, this was difficult even for him what with the fact that it was the arm this infection oozed from was connected to the boy he would give his life for in an instant. He had to work hard to focus solely on the problem and not allow him to let his eyes and thoughts wonder up to the face. If he did he wasn't sure he would be able to continue.

By the time he had done all he could, Gaius was exhausted. Merlin still slept on, though it at least appeared to be a bit more natural now. He was beginning to wonder exactly what it was Lancelot had given the boy (not to mention where he had gotten it). The twitches hadn't died down at all. They were what worried Gaius the most. Not only for the sake of Merlin's physical health, but for his emotional health as well.

The returning thought of the manacles helped Gaius to steel himself to leave the little room. Before he turned away, he gave Merlin one last glance, as the others had, as though with that last little look he might wake up or become magically better or all the answers they were looking for would suddenly appear on written on his face. Of course none of these things happened, nor would they. Sighing, Gaius heaved himself to his feet and made his way from the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Gwaine was waiting for him, as he'd expected. What he hadn't expected was for him to be sitting on a bench glaring at Lancelot, who glared back murderously.

"What's going on here?"

"I think Gwaine left a part of his story out earlier," Lancelot said with a lightest that was belied by the glower on his face.

"What do you mean? Gwaine, what's he talking about?"

"I… I overheard him trying to talk down Merlin. I know Merlin's a sorcerer."

Gaius staggered. Lancelot flew to his side, helping him over to sit on his cot before he fell over from shock. He could feel the blood draining from his body.

"Gaius, it's fine! I'm not going to tell anyone! That's what I was _trying_ to tell Lancelot here. I want to _help_. Merlin's my friend, too."

Gaius groaned inwardly. Apparently he'd been so focused on Merlin he hadn't heard them out here arguing earlier. He was really much too tired to deal with this right now. But it seemed he must. "Gwaine, we are sorry you weren't told sooner." He had a feeling that was the biggest weight gnawing on the knight's mind. "You understand why Merlin has had to keep it a secret. Even Lancelot found out just as you did, on accident."

"That's what he said," Gwaine shot Lancelot another scowl, though this one was less venomous, as though accepting his story as confirmed. "And I _do_ understand why it has to be kept secret. I swear, I'll protect Merlin with my life. You know I will, Gaius."

"Yes, I believe you," he answered quietly. But that didn't mean he was any less terrified. For Merlin's sake and for Gwaine's and Lancelot's and his own and everyone caught in the middle of this whole big mess that just seemed to be getting more complicated by the minute.

Gwaine breathed a sigh of relief. He was glad someone did. Lancelot still was looking at him suspiciously, but that was fine. He still had a feeling there was something Lancelot wasn't telling him, too. They may have a brief moment in the wood of amity, but he'd been drunk with blood loss and Lancelot had been feeling him out to see if he was going to betray Merlin for having magic.

They didn't have to be on each other's sides. They just had to on Merlin's.

"I need one of you to stay with Merlin while I go down to the dungeons for a moment."

"The dungeons? Why?"

"The shackles Arthur used on Merlin. They're still there."

Lancelot shuddered involuntarily. Gwaine saw the revulsion clearly on both their faces. Not for the first time he wondered just what had happened with those things. He'd seen the end result, or at least he'd seen the obvious outward signs. Gaius had made it clear it was going to cause Merlin an inordinate amount of pain. What had they had to witness as a result of that? What had Merlin had to suffer through?

Lancelot shook his head. "No, Gaius, you should stay here. You're worn through. I'll go get them."

"And I'll stay with Merlin," Gwaine jumped in, not one to be outdone. "You get some rest."

Gaius didn't argue. Once Lancelot was sure he and Gwaine were settled, he made his way out of the physician's chambers towards the dungeons. He understood why Gaius wanted to retrieve the manacles. The thought of what he'd witnessed in that cell haunted him. Lancelot had known Uther could be cruel at times, but he couldn't believe that he'd actually allowed those things to be used on humans.

He couldn't believe he himself had just stood by and allowed them to be used on Merlin.

There was going to be a lot of apologizing in the next few days. However, despite the fact that Arthur, Gwaine, and Lancelot all sported wounds, he had a feeling they were going to be the ones giving most of them. Oh, Merlin would give it a sporting chance. Arthur thought that the enchantment had merely tried to trick him in the dungeons luring him close so Merlin could attack again, but Lancelot wasn't sure. He had a feeling that the part of Merlin that was still there was dying inside at what he done. Now that all of him was back, that guilt was going to be compounded ten-fold.

Well, at least towards the rest of them.

Lancelot had accepted he was the one who had the most apologizing to do. Possibly even more than Arthur. At least his decision to use the shackles had been the only choice available. Lancelot had other options. He could have gagged Merlin. But he hadn't. He had forcibly removed his will without a second thought. Merlin's reaction when he had appeared in the dungeon with the second vial had confirmed it. He knew exactly what had been done to him, and forgiveness was not likely to be on the forefront of his mind.

"Lancelot! Where is he? What have you done with him?"

"What? Who? What are you talking about?"

Gwen ran down the corridor towards him, her face a mix of fear and anger. "Merlin. He's supposed to be in the dungeons. What has Arthur done? Where has he taken him?"

"Relax, Gwen. Merlin is in Gaius's chambers. He's resting there now." He didn't dare say anything beyond that like "He's fine." He couldn't lie to her, not when she look so worried.

"I'm going to see him."

Lancelot grabbed her arm as she made to swept past him. "No," he said just a bit too sharply. "I mean, he's asleep, Gwen. Leave him for tonight. Gwaine is watching him. I'm sure Gaius will let you see him tomorrow." He was sure Gaius wouldn't allow anything of the sort, but she looked like she needed to hear it. Perhaps one little white lie wouldn't hurt.

"If you're worried he'll hurt me, stop. I can take care of myself. Arthur's lectured me enough about it. I'll be fine. And if Gwaine's there, he can keep an eye out in case Merlin gets the sudden urge to kill me, which he's not going to. Whatever is wrong with him, Arthur is going to find a way to fix it. He will. But until then, Merlin needs his friends by him, and you are not going to stop me from being one of them!"

She was shouting now, and her fiery passion almost dragged a smile out of Lancelot's self-pitying state. Almost. It was lost when he saw who was coming down the corridor behind her, able to hear every echoing word.

"What's going on? Sir Lancelot, what's all this about Prince Arthur and his servant?"

"Lord Agravaine!" Lancelot noticed immediately that the fierceness of a moment ago had turned into a mousy nervousness. "I apologize for shouting. Merlin's not been feeling well. I'm just a bit worried about him is all."

Agravaine frowned, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "I heard something about him wanting to kill you. And earlier today I saw him being taken to the dungeons. My dear girl, if the safety of our citizens is in question–"

"It isn't!" Gwen denied, much too quickly.

Agravaine's brow furrowed deeply with concern. "I think I ought to consult his highness about this. I have a strong feeling you are trying to protect this boy. I'm sorry, but this is a serious matter. Particularly as Merlin is Prince Arthur's personal manservant. He must be informed if there is any potential for danger to his person. You understand, I only do this for his safety, and your own."

With protests still on Gwen's lips, Agravaine turned on his heel and began to stalk away. She and Lancelot stared after him for a long moment before they shook off their shock and pelted after him.

The only thought on Lancelot's mind was: _Now they really __**are**__ going to kill him._


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Yae, summer classes are over! *Happy dance* Now I just have to live through a three week family reunion complete with bio-parents/siblings I haven't seen in 18 years. Wish me luck.**

**We're about halfway through now (pretty sure we're going to end at about 23-25 chapters, depending on if anything unexpected happens), so that means stuff's about to go down. Hit the fan. Go sideways. Insert idiom here. Not entirely in this chapter, perhaps, but the next one? Oh, definitely.**

**Also, promo-ing myself (I know, bad Agathe)! I'm doing two stories at once now, because I tried to half keep my promise about studying and not updating. It's called ****_Day and Night_****. Go check it out.**

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Chapter Twelve

Arthur wished it were appropriate for royalty to swear. He had several choice words he wanted to use right now, on sorcery, on himself, on Merlin. If Merlin were in his shoes, he wouldn't care. He'd heard his servant, when the young man thought no one was listening. He could curse like a sailor, though he would be quite a bit more creative about it. Perhaps if Arthur could follow his example he might feel even a miniscule better right now.

He doubted it. But he wished he could try.

Of course, these thoughts were still on his mind seconds later when the door to his chambers burst open and a huffing and puffing Lancelot and Guinevere stood before him, slightly hunched over from breathlessness, informing him between gasps that his uncle was on his way, so that the only thing he could think of to say was an anguished "Son of a motherless goat!"

At steady footsteps drew nearer, Guinevere grabbed Lancelot by the arm and dragged him to the servant's staircase on the other side of the room. "He can't know we were here first!" she squeaked as she pulled the door closed behind them just as Agravaine swept into the room. Arthur wasn't surprised they'd arrived before Agravaine. His uncle had only been there a few weeks, whereas Guinevere had worked in the castle for years and knew every shortcut.

Arthur rose his eyebrows in what he thought was a reasonable measure of surprise. At least, he hoped it conveyed more surprise than fear. He still hadn't thought of what to tell the counsel about what had happened over the last few days. He'd been too busy worrying about how to fix Merlin.

_Relax, he's fine now. He's no longer a danger; they won't pressure you to punish him. It wasn't his fault. They'll understand that._

"Sire," Agravaine began with a small bow. "I just received an alarming report. Apparently your servant has been threatening young Guinevere."

Arthur ignored the slight catch in his breath. Had Guinevere actually managed to get into the dungeons before they'd gone down there like she'd threatened? Was she alright? She'd seemed fine just now but then she'd only been in front of him for barely a moment.

"She… she has not mentioned any such thing to me." Perhaps he could play up the denial a bit longer? Maybe they need never find out.

Agravaine shook his head sadly, "Yes, when I questioned her, she tried to deny it, but I did she Merlin being taken to the dungeons. He appeared to be unconscious, and I had heard something about him injuring the knights who were attempting to detain him. I think Guinevere may know something about it and was trying to protect him."

"Merlin would never try to hurt Guinevere." He tried not to let the anxiety of the past few hours show in his voice, but he knew he was failing. The real Merlin _would_ never do anything to Gwen. The possessed/enchanted/whatever Merlin that he had been… it was clear he very well might have.

_But not anymore. He's fine now. And I won't let them get to him again._

Agravaine patted him on the arm, clearly taking a different meaning for his anxiety. "Yes, of course, Arthur, I know the boy is close to you. But that is exactly why we must take these types of possible allegations seriously. Just imagine if someone were to gain control over him. They might try to make him do any number of things, things only he would have access to you to accomplish."

Arthur's head snapped up. "What do you mean?" _He knows. How can he know?_

"I only mean, ever since I have come here, Merlin has been at your heels every moment I've seen you. However, these past three days, I've seen neither hide nor tail. Now we're receiving these kinds of reports? My only concern is for your safety, Arthur. You know that. I think it might be best to keep an eye on him. He may be dangerous."

"He's not dangerous! Not anymore!"

Oops.

"Not anymore, sire?" Agravaine's eyes went wide with horror as comprehension dawned on him. "Do you mean to tell me, sire… that Merlin has already _made_ his attempt?"

Arthur gritted his teeth. This was not going at all to plan. The fact that he did not _have_ a plan was quickly ignored. "He did not know what he was doing, Agravaine. Merlin has been under some kind of enchantment which has caused him to exhibit usual behaviors. But I want to make it clear that _none_ of it was of his own doing. We have since taken measures to relieve him of this curse. He is perfectly safe now."

Agravaine appeared to be in shock. Over which part of the story, Arthur wasn't sure, but he couldn't blame him. He'd lived it, and he was still reeling.

"Well, sire, I'm sure you want to undertake a mission to hunt down this sorcerer immediately. There's no telling if or when he may strike again."

"Of course, Uncle." An idea came to Arthur, one to perhaps keep him away from the potential sentencing of Merlin. "Would you possibly consider taking that on? My knights will assist you."

Agravaine smiled. "Certainly. As I said before, Arthur, your safety is my biggest concern. I assure you; I will hunt down this sorcerer and see them hanged by the end of the week."

"Thank you, Agravaine. I know I can always count on you."

* * *

What was she doing? This was not part of the plan. Not that her plan had been all that thought out other than the general means to the specific end, but she was reasonably certain it was not supposed to have gone like this.

Merlin lay on his bed, having been brought back from the dungeon by the knights. She'd had to hide for a long time afterwards, until she could sneak past the ones who stayed behind in the physician's quarters with the minimum amount of damage. Not that she cared about causing damage, but it was so much harder to remain undetected when one left a pile of bodies in one's wake. She had stayed outside in the corridor, counting the ones who came out until only two stayed behind, the old man and the drunkard knight. The physician hadn't been difficult to deal with; already asleep, he'd never heard her slip past into the smaller room.

The knight was surprised when she came through the door, attempting to jump to his feet from the chair he sat upon to attack her, but he was injured, and it was no trouble at all to toss him carelessly to the side, knocking him unconscious.

She took his place by the bed, examining the quivering body in front of her. Pity for his sorry state warred with anger for the conversation she'd just overheard. She cursed her treacherous womanly heart. How could she feel sorry for him? Especially now, knowing what she did?

He had lied to her. For years, he had lied. Looked her in the face and turned her away when she needed him most.

_Only at first. He helped you afterwards. He led you to the druids. He tried to protect you._

He had poisoned her. _And it broke his heart._ He had killed her sister. _She tried to kill him and everyone else first._

Merlin had magic. No matter how hard Morgana tried, it all came back to that lie.

She hadn't known that down in the dungeons. Agravaine had run to tell her what he'd overheard of Arthur's plan, and she'd gone to promise Merlin she would protect him. Morgana didn't really even know why she'd done it. After all, she couldn't stop what the shackles were meant to do; they were made to completely negate magic she might throw at them. Merlin had had no reason to expect her help, or rather, the help of the older woman she'd spelled herself to appear as. So far as he knew, she'd gone to find food in the morning and hadn't returned before he'd been captured.

And yet she'd gone, sworn to him she'd help him through it, that she'd take away his pain. She'd known it was a lie, even as she said it. Even now, Morgana had no idea what had been done to Merlin, but the process of taking off any enchantment by use of the manacles was supposedly agony according to Agravaine. She couldn't stop that, no matter what she said. She'd almost considered giving him her healing bracelet, but fear of anyone finding it on him had stopped her. Besides, she didn't exactly want him healed of desiring to kill Arthur.

But she did do something.

While no charm could be placed on the wearer of the shackles, she could place one around him. Because of the strength needed to maintain her illusion on herself, despite dropping it while she was in her hiding place, Morgana hadn't been strong enough to mask his entire body, but she had managed his face. She had concealed Merlin's torment from the knights and her brother who surrounded him. It was she who was the one who deserved to watch him suffer after all, wasn't it? She was the one who had worked so hard for this moment, right?

Morgana forgot it all the second he began to scream. While those around him could hear nothing, his shrieks echoed even now in her mind. They had torn at her very soul. She had nearly forgotten there was no way to ease his suffering, almost dropping the illusion in favour of something, anything to make the torment end. It was almost as though she could not only hear it, but feel it along with him. Stopping herself from screaming in shared agony took nearly as much strength as the illusion spell itself.

And it never seemed to end.

Now she was here, watching him attempt to sleep off the pain. Morgana didn't know why she stayed, simply sitting there, doing nothing. She should be replacing the enchantment, stealing him away to torture him until he did her bidding, killing him where he lie.

But she wasn't.

Even though she was sure that the moment he awoke he would likely try to kill her –despite the fact he would probably be unable to stand, let alone fend off an attack– or alert the rest of the castle so they could come and kill her, she couldn't bring herself to do anything about it. And it was driving her insane.

Perhaps it was because when he had stumbled by her little hovel –unknowingly drawn there by a clever little spell of hers– when Morgana had seen him, to her he hadn't looked _enchanted_. No, he had simply looked… scared. And knowing now what she did about his magic, she could completely understand what he would have to be terrified of. Her charm, intended to tranquilize him enough so he wouldn't be a danger to her should her disguise fail, had hardly seemed to scratch the surface.

So maybe she was doing this because she needed to know more. More about why he'd tried to kill her brother, why he'd hidden his magic from her, why _everything._

And perhaps then, even if the answers were not to her satisfaction… maybe then her mind would at least be able to kill him in peace.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I know, the first half is kinda boring... but I hope that second part made up for it!**

**Question for you all! While I'm doing two pieces at once here, do you prefer one of these shorter kinds of chapters every other day or longer/multiple chapters once or twice a week? Let me know which one you would like better!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: This was possibly the most difficult chapter to write so far. I've found Merlin's POV is the most difficult, because not only is he completely OOC (for a reason, I promise), I have to follow the thin line between total mania and the need for him to have a coherent conversation. Morgana's also slightly OOC, but mostly because I just really didn't like most of what they did with her character. Hopefully you still enjoy it!**

**I'm on my way (literally, I'm typing this on a bus) to visit family for the next few weeks, so I'm afraid updates will be sporadic. I will still try to make sure I put something up for at least one my stories every few days, but I'm afraid no guarantees.**

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Chapter Thirteen

Merlin did indeed wake up, but he certainly wished he hadn't, for his entire body was on fire. Instantly he cried out in agony, but a soothing voice crooned in his ear, and a hand swept softly through his hair. Something flowed through his veins, taming the flames. It took a few moments, but after a while, he relaxed into the touch.

The voice became recognizable words then. "See, now. You're okay. I told you, dear, I wouldn't let anything happen to you. There, that's a dear. Just relax. That's a good boy. I'm right here, just like I promised. There now, I won't leave you. You just need to be quiet, though, so no one knows I'm here, okay? I don't think they'd take too kindly to a girl sneaking into your room, even an old girl like me, eh?"

Merlin could see now that that was where they were, out of the dungeons and in his room in Gaius's chambers. He wondered what had garnered the change in scenery. Was he injured? Their attempts at killing him the first time must not have worked. How could they not have? They had even knocked him out for it, three times now. They were toying with him. They were just going to keep leading him on, chasing him like prey, all the while letting him know his doom was coming but never letting it end…

He would make it end.

Arthur wasn't dead. Arthur was supposed to be dead. _IkilledArthurIkilledArthurIkilledArthur. _Once the threat was gone, he could live. They couldn't kill him if he killed them first. That was how it worked, the way it had to work.

"Do you know you do that out loud?" Ophelia was still running her fingers through his hair, but now that he was a bit more aware, he noted that her movements were slightly stiff, and her voice, despite the soothing words, held an edge that had not been there before.

"What?"

"That mumbling. You've been doing it out loud this whole time. It's what told me you were outside my cottage in the first place." She was being a bit generous by calling that place a cottage, but he thought it'd be a bit rude to comment on that right now. "And you should know by now you didn't kill the prince. He's obviously still alive." She cocked her head, looking at him curiously. "Why is it you think he wants you to kill you?"

If Merlin had been able to think clearly, he would have seen the piercing look she gave him as she waited for his answer. But as he'd cast around for an answer, he'd cast his gaze around as well, and it had fallen on the man lying in the corner of the room. Merlin gave an involuntary yelp, and attempted to launch himself from the bed, but his limbs wouldn't cooperate, causing him to flop like a fish on the mattress.

"Shh, relax, dear. I told you I didn't think they would take kindly to my being here. He won't hurt you. Now I want an answer, Merlin. And don't lie to me. I have risked much in coming here to protect you. Why do you think he or Arthur would want to kill you?"

"Because… because…" He couldn't do it. His chest had started pounding again and he needed to get away _get away get away_.

"You have magic."

Ophelia didn't sound frightened or even angry, not like he would have expected. Merely sad. Almost like she were disappointed in him. "I heard the knights and physician talking while I hid. They were talking about you being a sorcerer."

"I… I didn't… I don't…"

"You've been hiding here, in the heart of Camelot. All this time. But those people knew. You told them."

Now she did sound irritated, and Merlin didn't understand. He hadn't even expected to see the woman again, telling her about his magic had never been in the plan (not that he really _had _a plan). It never was, not with anyone. "I-I didn't tell them," he stammered. The urge to _get away_ was building even greater, but for the first time it was directed against her, her and her odd anger. "They just found out. I didn't tell."

"Would you have?"

Merlin shook his head violently. They wanted to kill him. Why on earth would he have desired to be the one to tell them the reason why? He kept shaking it, as though by doing so he could get everything out that was eating at his skull.

"Okay, it's alright; I believe you. Calm down." Ophelia took his face in her hands. He tried not to flinch, still slightly worried by her anger. "I'm afraid you're right, though. They do want to kill you."

Merlin gaped. Then he ground his teeth together to keep from babbling aloud again. _I knew it. I knew it I knew it I knew it._

"They think you've grown too powerful. That you're dangerous. We must get you out of here."

No, no, he couldn't leave. He wasn't done yet. They could still get him. It didn't matter how far he ran. They would come after him, just as they had before.

They had done it because Arthur was still alive. He had failed the first time; the prince could still get him. He had to fix that. Only then would he be free.

"Will you help me?" he blurted suddenly.

"Of course I will, dear. Now, we need to get you out of this bed first. Can you stand?"

Morgana couldn't believe her luck as she coaxed the boy into a sitting position. Merlin hadn't been "cured" by those dreadful manacles. He still feared her brother and hoped for his death. She was beginning to wonder if her first assumption hadn't been correct, that he really was a crafty manipulator vying for something more. His continued fear seemed to strike that possibility down, but that didn't mean she couldn't still use him, especially as her calming spell appeared to be keeping him from lashing out at her like he did the others.

And he'd admitted to his magic. Admitted to being forced into telling the others about it. If she played this right, she could continue to place herself in the light of comforting protector. She'd no idea what Merlin's skills were, but she could teach him. Morgana had thought she was only dreaming before, but now she thought it might be true. Together they really could take over Camelot.

And wouldn't that be a beautiful nail for her brother's coffin.

Merlin couldn't stand, not on his own. She hefted him up, but every time he got his feet under him, one of his traitorous limbs would spasm again, and he would lose control. Morgana growled internally. This would not do. Carrying him from the castle would be immensely more difficult than she could manage and still stay hidden. And though he was just as scrawny as he'd always been, trying to support his tall frame was taking energy she needed to dedicate to her disguise.

"Merlin, I'm going to do something. But I need you to trust me, okay, love?"

He stiffened for a moment, but then nodded, sagging into her as once more his leg gave a jerking wobble. She began reciting a healing charm Morgause had taught her; though she had a feeling it would not have a permanent effect, she could only hope it would be enough to get them both out of the castle unseen.

After what felt like ages, Merlin finally seemed to steady. He still leaned heavily on her, but his legs did not give way from underneath him anymore. Morgana could feel his hands tremble where he gripped her for support, but she wasn't sure if that was the panic or remnants of the larger damage.

Morgana directed her magic next towards Gwaine, who still lay slumped against the wall, but who could awaken any moment. With a word she ensured that moment would remain a long ways off.

"You… You have magic too." Merlin's voice was a mix between amazement and petrification.

"Yes, I do," she confirmed in her softest voice, "and I'm going to use it to get you out of here. I might need you to help me, though." That would give her a chance to access his skills as well as conserve her own energy. Morgana only hoped he actually had enough strength to do anything. She still didn't really know the entirety of the effects the torture of the manacles would have on him.

She led him through the door to the larger room. Gaius still slept on his bed, but he began to rouse as they shuffled across the room. He opened his eyes, and they knew the moment he had spotted them.

"Mer–"

Panicked, Merlin threw a hand out towards him, and Morgana watched in awed horror as the old man sailed across the room, slamming into a wall. Quickly she dragged his once more nearly limp body out of the room away from the sight. Luckily they met no one in the corridors. While Merlin could walk mostly on his own, he couldn't move very fast, and he slowed their progress even more by jumping and trying to skitter away at the slightest sound. Morgana knew it was pointless to do anything to try to stop that reaction besides quietly hiss reassurances at him, no matter how much it annoyed her.

As she made to go down a corridor that would lead to a secret passage out of the castle, Merlin stopped, trying to pull her a different direction.

"No, dear, it's this way." Morgana was panting a bit from the exertion. They really needed to get out of there; she wasn't sure how much longer she could keep her disguise in place.

"But Arthur's this way," Merlin insisted.

Morgana was torn. On the one hand, he was right. They were so close, in the very heart of Camelot. Their next chance might be so far away. They could end this now.

But on the other hand, she was using up her last reserves. She didn't think she could afford a delay.

Merlin kept tugging weakly towards Arthur's chambers. He was desperate to go that way. Who was she to deny him what she, too, had wanted for so long?

She wondered if he would be okay if she was the one to kill the prince. While it would certainly be a beautiful sight to see the look on Arthur's face when Merlin killed him –she mourned the fact that she'd missed the first attempt– honestly she didn't think Merlin was up to it right now. Yes, he'd blasted Gaius without a thought, but it had taken so much out of him that he didn't have. She wasn't sure he could do it again. But he was right. Arthur must die, and now was the time to accomplish it.

They ducked into an alcove as the door to Arthur's chambers opened. Morgana felt her insides burning as her former maid and the peasant knight stepped out into view, her brother right behind them, though he stayed in the doorway.

"–go down to the dungeons. Gaius wants me to bring him the manacles." Morgana felt Merlin seize up and make to lunge out as Lancelot spoke. She gripped him tightly to hold him back, slapping a hand over his mouth and shushing him. There was an edge to Lancelot's voice, indicating he was not entirely pleased about something.

"And I'm going to see Merlin," Gwen declared.

"No!" insisted both men sternly.

"I will, and you won't stop me. Gwaine and Gaius will be there to keep an eye out in case Merlin gets violent."

Gwen swept determinedly down the corridors, ignoring any further protests. Morgana's heart quickened. The scene in the physician's chambers would soon be discovered. They had to hurry.

Lancelot made to leave too, but Arthur grabbed his arm. "Tell Gaius…" he began softly, "tell Gaius I'm sorry."

"He knows, Arthur. Just like you know deep down this isn't your fault."

Arthur hung his head and retreated back into his chambers as Lancelot walked away. Merlin was straining even harder towards the room now. Morgana gave in and led him out of the alcove. It was now or never.

Merlin seemed to have gained strength from somewhere. He didn't lean on her so much anymore, though the tremor in his hands had increased greatly, and one of his arms had started to randomly convulse again. He didn't wait for her, pushing open the door without a word.

Arthur hadn't traveled far from the door, sitting pensively at his table. He looked up sharply as they entered, leaping at once to his feet. "Merlin, how did you–? Wait, who are you?"

Morgana didn't answer, instead blasting her brother back as he reached for a nearby sword. She hadn't been able to manage that strong a force, so the impact didn't knock him unconscious as it had the others, but he did look at up them dazed from his slumped position by the wall.

"Go ahead, Merlin." She made to wave him forward, but he had already vanished from her side, rushing at the person he had such a strong fear and hatred of.

The two grappled on the floor. Morgana watched the spectacle with growing glee. Arthur's face was filled wonderful confusion as he tried with one good arm to throw off the man he thought he had cured. She had a feeling her brother was only lasting so long against Merlin's unbridled attempts to find any way possible to neutralize him due to Merlin's own weakened condition. She wondered if that was why he made no attempt to use his own magic to do the deed.

Morgana was growing tired, however, both mentally and physically. Merlin needed to end this now or step aside and allow her to do so. Just as she was about to step in, the door flew open again.

"Arthur, the manacles are– Merlin!"

Lancelot launched himself into the fray, trying to pull Merlin off the prince. Merlin was beyond even her calming charm's limits, however. He continued his assault, somehow simultaneously holding off the larger man through sheer force of will. Morgana realized their time was up. The sounds of the scuffle were sure to soon bring in the guards. She grabbed hold of Lancelot with her magic, wrenching him to the side. Then she approached the two remaining fighters, ignoring the tingling sensation she felt around her that she attributed to simple nervous energy.

"Merlin, it's time to go." He disregarded her, continuing to pummel the prince. She reached into the melee and grasped his arms, pulling him back with all that she had. It became easier the moment both sets of eyes connected with her.

"… M-Morgana?"

That tingling that meant her illusion was gone, disintegrated with her lack of strength and focus. Morgana knew they would never make it out of the castle through the passage now. But that didn't matter if they knew it was her. With the last of her fading energy, she held Merlin as tight as she could, incanting rapidly, drawing everything she needed from the shock on Arthur's face as she and his formerly most loyal servant vanished in a cloud of dust.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Before I start, I have to answer a question posed by a rather… irate PM I received, regarding the characterization of Morgana and whether or not she would accept Merlin so readily. My logic for this comes in two parts.**

**1. Morgana cared about Merlin pre-series 3. Don't even try to argue that point. All you have to do is watch ****_The Moment of Truth_**** to confirm it.**

**2. It took Morgana about thirty seconds to reaccept Mordred as her beloved ally, despite the fact that he ****_stabbed her_****. All he had to do was give her what she wanted, which is what Merlin's done here.**

**Moving on, prepare yourselves. It is time for the moment you have all been waiting for. This is the only chapter which I have given a title. That's right. It's time for… "What's the Matter with Merlin."**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

Arthur was frozen for a long time. This wasn't happening. This hadn't happened. Someone was going to jump out at him now and yell "Gotcha!" Or maybe if he tried really hard to open his eyes, it would all turn out to be a dream.

But of course, he'd been trying to open his eyes for the past few months without success.

"Arthur, are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

Arthur didn't respond. He felt numb, in body and soul. Someone was tugging on his arm, trying to help him to his feet, repeating their questions, insisting on taking him to Gaius. The prince let the person, whom he dimly registered as Lancelot, propel him out of his chambers and down the corridors. They were met by someone else, running panicked up to meet them. Guinevere took one look at his catatonic state and mercifully stilled her flow of questions, taking him by the other arm and mumbling soothing words, none of which he took in.

Even if there had been something physically wrong with him beyond another possible concussion –that was it; he had brain damage and was hallucinating– he would have found no help in the physician's chambers. The place was in chaos. Leon and Elyan were already there, having met the frantic Gwen in the corridors, and were dragging an unconscious Gwaine to a cot next to one that held a semi-conscious Gaius.

Gwen lowered Arthur on a bench. She didn't know how to raise him from his stupor any more than she knew how to rouse Gwaine, not that she and the others hadn't been tried. Gwen looked to Lancelot expectantly for answers about what had happened, but though he wasn't as dazed, he was just as closed off. There was only one thing that was clear to everyone.

Merlin hadn't been cured.

After everything they had gone through, everything they had put him through, it hadn't helped. He was just as lost as he'd been before. Perhaps even more so if the states of the men in the room were anything to judge by. No one spoke for a long while. Then finally, it was actually Arthur who broke the silence.

"He wasn't cursed." His voice was barely a cracked whisper. "He was working for her."

Gwen stifled a gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. _Oh, Merlin_. It was no wonder Arthur and Lancelot were in such shock. _How can this be happening?_

"I knew it. I told you all back in the woods," Elyan grumbled. For the first time, no one tried to stop him.

"But… but there has to be an explanation… There has to be," Gwen pleaded. Merlin was her friend. Arthur's friend. He would never do this.

"Lady Morgana was here, Gwen," Lancelot explained softly, dropping down next Arthur on the bench. "She took Merlin with her. He… he wanted to go with her."

A faint part of Arthur's mind argued with that. Yes, Merlin had brought Morgana straight to the prince's chambers. Yes, Merlin had not struggled to get away when Morgana took him, except to try to get his hands around Arthur's neck again. But he had looked just as shocked as the rest of them when the illusion faded away and the older woman who had once stood beside him was revealed to be the young witch._ He didn't know_, that part reasoned. But it was a small part, easily ignored.

"Sire," a croak across the room startled them. Gaius struggled to sit up on the cot where Leon and Elyan had placed him. Quickly the knights rushed to his side, helping the old man to face the rest of them. He still looked in pain, but the look on his face was resolute. "Sire, I do not believe Merlin is acting under his own will."

"How can that be?" Arthur's voice was hollow. "You were there. He was freed of any potential sorcery placed on him. That means his actions must be his own."

"No, I don't think they are." This was it. That feeling that had been bothering Gaius since they returned with Merlin. He'd cast it aside then, and again earlier so he could focus on tending his ward. But it could be shoved aside no longer. "I don't think Merlin was ever under the influence of an enchantment.

"Then what? What on earth could make him act this way unless he wanted to do it?"

"I believe, sire, that Merlin has been poisoned."

* * *

_For the twelfth time, Merlin ran through the list of herbs Gaius had asked for his head. He wished he'd thought to write them down. It was a long list, all very important, several ones he was supposed to have gone out to get for his guardian days ago, but had been too busy –or, on occasion, he had to admit too lazy– to fetch. But there was no more putting it off now. And really, Merlin didn't mind the task at all. It got him away from having to participate in the hunt, after all._

_A berry bush came into view, and Merlin skipped over to it merrily. He popped a few of the precious fruits straight into his mouth, savouring the juicy explosions on his taste buds, before reaching into his bag and pulling out a square of cloth. He laid it flat on the ground and began stripping the bush, though he made sure he left plenty behind. It would not do to deprive a bear or other such animal of its potential meal. Especially since he would rather not be a substitute._

_Tying the cloth up and placing it in his bag, Merlin continued on his way. He heard the knights laughing the distance, and briefly thought wistfully of returning to see what they were up to. But he still had a job to do, and really, he could catch up with them anytime, preferably a time when they weren't hunting down innocent deer._

_It wasn't long, however, until Merlin noticed the stillness in the air. The birds had stopped chirping, and even the leaves of the trees seemed to have gone silent. He tensed, waiting. Then Merlin heard the clash of swords in the distance and immediately began to sprint._

**_One day. That's all I ask for, Arthur. One day where I can leave you on your own for more than five minutes without someone trying to kill you._**

_He burst into the small clearing, instantly coming face to face with a mercenary. He barely had time to extract the small blade from his boot before the man was upon him, swinging a sword at him dangerously. Merlin fought him off as best he could without his magic. It was a difficult task when his own weapon was a fraction of the size as his opponent's. He didn't know why Arthur insisted he carry the dagger around with him. The prince had claimed he wanted his servant to be able to defend himself should he need to –to which Merlin had rolled his eyes and muttered "You mean like I do for you daily"– ignoring Merlin's protests that he didn't even really know how to use a dagger._

**_"Pointy end goes in the bad guy."_**

_Unfortunately, try as Merlin might, he was having a rather difficult time getting the pointy end to touch the bad guy, let alone incapacitate him. When the mercenary backed him up to a tree and looked ready to slit his throat, Merlin knew he had no choice. With a muttered word, the hilt of the blade began to heat up, as they had many times before. In the brief moment of distraction, Merlin took the opportunity to dig his dagger into the man's belly, sending him crashing to the ground._

_The smart thing to do would have been to grab the fallen man's sword. Merlin wasn't exactly known for his quick thinking in battle, however._

_The next man was soon upon him. He got lucky, Gwaine appearing from nowhere and helping him finish the mercenary off, though not before admonishing him for getting embroiled in a fight he was supposedly unprepared to win._

_"Thanks." Merlin took a moment to catch his breath, glancing around nervously for Arthur, who he'd earlier seen thrown from his horse from the corner of his eye. The prince was sprawled at the foot of a tree, but luckily the few mercenaries who were left didn't seem to notice him there, engaged in their own battles._

_"More fun than gathering herbs, eh, mate?"_

_Merlin rolled his eyes. He and Gwaine were close friends, but there were some things about the man he would never understand. "Agree to disagree," he muttered._

_Gwaine wandered away, attacking another opponent with as much gusto as the last. Merlin made to move towards Arthur, but he was cut off by another large thug. He eyed the man warily. There was something off about him. The mercenary swung at him wildly, not seeming to worry at all about precision, a crazed look on his features. Oh, yes, there was definitely something not right here._

_Merlin held him off as best he could, praying one of the others would notice his circumstances and come to help. A few moments later, however, a flash of pain ran down his arm as a blade sliced through his skin, and Merlin's mind exploded. _

* * *

"Poisoned? How? What kind of poison?"

"How I do not know, though I can guess. The kind, on the other hand, I am afraid I am all too familiar with. It is known as the Window of Death. It forces the victim to watch their own death over and over again in their own minds to the point of madness. It was used during the time of the Great Purge as a torturous device. Victims would be given it days before their executions to prolong their agony. One of the unintended side effects was a compulsion to avoid their fate any way they could. They could not stop themselves." A flicker of pain crossed Gaius's face, but it did not seem to be due to his head wound. "After a while their guards came to realize this effect was happening and took to defending themselves, so soon the means of escape often came through less… honorable ways…"

"Wait. You're saying Merlin might try to kill himself?" There was a clear note of panic in Arthur's tone. He wasn't sure which was worse, the thought of his friend willingly working for his enemy or that he might unwillingly try to take his own life.

"No, no," Gaius assured him quickly, though the dark look didn't leave his eyes. "I don't think we need to worry about that just yet. All of those victims were given no other choice. So far Merlin has found… _other ways_ to let out his feelings about his impending doom."

"But no one was trying to hurt Merlin when he stabbed me. If anything we were trying to protect him," Gwaine protested from his cot, now half-conscious.

"Merlin doesn't know that right now," Gaius shook his head. "The poison feeds on his inner most fears of dying and directs it towards those he believes will cause it."

"Merlin _fears_ us?" Gwen shook her head, scarcely believing it. "Why would he think anyone here would want him dead?"

"Once the poison is administered, in the brief few moments before it takes control, the victim's fear can be directed as the poisoner wishes. Whoever has done this has clearly told Merlin that those in Camelot wish him harm, for whatever reason." Lancelot and Gwaine glanced nervously over at him. None of the three mentioned that Merlin had a perfectly good reason to be afraid of Camelot.

"But what _I_ fear is the next stage of the poison should he remain exposed to it for too much longer."

* * *

_Merlin was dazed. For a long moment, he wasn't entirely sure where he was. Someone gripped him by his cut arm, mumbling something drunkenly in his ear. At first the stream of sound was just an annoying hum, but eventually he was able to make out words. "–Camelot. All death comes from Camelot. You, me, everyone will all die in Camelot. They're killing us all. With the king out of the way, the prince is the spearhead. We're all going to die."_

_Merlin's head was spinning as he took in the wild muttering. __**They're going to kill you.**__ No, they were his friends… __**Arthur's going to kill you.**__ He wouldn't; Merlin was sure he would never… __**You have to kill Arthur first.**_

_He swayed on the spot as the conflicting feelings threatened to overwhelm him. Merlin shook his head violently, but he couldn't sort out was true and what wasn't. It all felt true. He shook himself again, his whole body, wrenching it free from the man's grasp. This shake helped, chasing away half the thoughts and leaving him with only one true message._

**_They're going to kill you. You have to kill Arthur. They're going to kill you._**

* * *

"What do you mean: 'the next stage'? What could be worse than this?"

"There were a few experiments done with the poison, to see how to maximize its effects. The more Merlin is exposed to, the more potent it becomes. Eventually the areas of the brain not affected by the poison will shut off his emotional center and fear of death will fade away, in order to prevent the fear from simply overwhelming his heart and killing him."

"Like some kind of twisted failsafe," Arthur grumbled.

"Exactly, sire. Once he reaches that point, however, it will be difficult, if not impossible to bring him back. His fear will be gone, but so will every other emotion he may have."

"Well, how do we fix him? What is the antidote?"

"There is no cure."

The gathered crowd simply stared at him for a moment. Gaius sighed heavily. He'd known this was going to be the difficult part.

"No cure. There's… _nothing_ you can do for him?"

"Is there really no hope, Gaius?" Gwen's voice broke as she tried not to burst into tears.

"I didn't say that," he said softly as Arthur lay an arm across the girl's shoulders, drawing her close. "You know I would never give up hope on Merlin. I'm afraid the only way to purge the toxin is to stop him from taking it in. Which leads us to the puzzle of how he was affected in the first place and why it still has him in its hold now."

Wobbling slightly, Gaius rose from the cot. Leon and Elyan steadied him on either side. With shuffling steps, he went to the area where he'd discarded Merlin's infected bandages. "Merlin was wounded during the battle, so we can assume it was first administered to his bloodstream then, probably by through the metal of the sword, which would account for his sudden attack on you soon thereafter, sire. That same mercenary could have slipped the poison into his bag somewhere unknown." Gaius raised the bloody bandages for all to see. "At first I wondered why Merlin would have such an infection when it was clear someone had cared for his wound. I have a feeling further examination would reveal that traces of the poison are on this cloth and were feeding into him all this time."

Lancelot had risen from his place on the bench and grabbed Merlin's abandoned satchel. He gazed inside it. A few mangled herbs, a handful of crushed berries, a dirty handkerchief. And something else. Cautiously, he used his sleeve to wipe at the bottom of the bag. "There's some kind of powder in here. Could that be it?"

Gaius nodded solemnly. "Anything in that bag would have been poisoned, and in his state, he would never have noticed anything wrong with a bit of dirt on his food."

"But, if all he needs to do is detox, can't we just leave him be until he comes to? I mean, his supply is here."

Part of Arthur liked that idea. He could just ignore the problem and it would resolve itself. But reality crushed it. "You're forgetting. He's with Morgana now. If she's the one who paid the mercenaries to do this, she may have more. She may be able to keep him in this state until she's done with him."

Gaius sighed. His poor boy. There was no telling how far along the path of toxicity Merlin was, nor how long he had until he reached the point of no return. "You must find him again, and quickly. He will not be able to travel far this time, even with Morgana's help. Not even she will be able to fully counteract the effects of the manacles."

Arthur nodded distractedly, wincing a bit at the reminder of the useless torture he'd inflicted. "I'll dispatch the knights to track them at first light."

"Arthur," Gaius warned, "you must make sure they are aware: Merlin may not know who they are. It is likely he they will try to hurt them, even if he does not mean to. If –_when_ he is well, he will be sorry, but right now he will use as deadly force as he has with you and Sir Gwaine."

Arthur understood, though he didn't like it. Any attempt at secrecy he'd tried to maintain before was gone now. He couldn't just tell his knights Merlin was missing. For their own safety he had to let them know that his servant was a dangerous fugitive who might try to kill them. For Merlin's safety, however, he was going to make sure they also knew he didn't _want_ to kill them. No matter what the boy might say to contrary.

"There's one other thing."

Of course there was. Because this situation wasn't bad enough already.

"If Lady Morgana is not the one who provided the poison, that means that Merlin may begin to detox before you find him. If he is not beyond reach yet, this could make him even more dangerous, not only to you, but to himself. His mind may struggle to cope with the confusing realities, and his body will start to shut down. I told you before that failing to bring harm to the ones they feared, victims would attempt to bring harm to themselves. Often times that end was accelerated by a lack of dosage.

"If you do not find Merlin soon, we may never find him at all."

* * *

_Merlin staggered away from the crazed man. The mercenary continued mumbling, and though he kept spewing the same sentiments as before, he seemed to be talking more to himself now than to Merlin. The servant watched in horror as the knights of Camelot slaughtered the remaining men in the clearing. They were going to do that to him. He had to stop it._

_The feral man had worked himself up to a fever pitch now with his ranting, looking around wildly as though for a means of escape. Merlin felt himself doing the same. He spotted the prince dragging himself upright from the base of the tree at the same time his companion did._

_"They won't take me alive. I won't let them."_

_Before Merlin could stop him –not that he saw a reason why he should –the man had downed the contents of a small vial. He fell choking to the ground. Before his eyes fluttered shut, he smiled peacefully. "Safe now…"_

* * *

The others had trooped wearily out of the physician's chambers, leaving only Gaius, Gwaine, and Lancelot –who instantly volunteered to look after the two injured men for the night– behind. It was clear Gaius was exhausted from everything that had gone on in the past day, but Lancelot had to ask the question that had been on his mind.

"Gaius," he began hesitantly, "Merlin is quite powerful, isn't he?" His voice pitched up at the end, but even so, it was more statement than question. He'd spoken to Merlin often enough about his gift. Tragically self-effacing the boy may have been, but Lancelot could read between the lines.

"He is."

"Then why hasn't he used his magic to try to kill any of us?"

Lancelot couldn't help but think back over the previous attacks. Daggers and fists had featured prominently, but he hadn't once seen the warlock employ magical methods to achieve his aim. He had feared it enough to drug him rather than allow him to be conscious after they had captured him, but the fact remained that even in this last attempt, he'd used his hands to try to strangle Arthur rather than sorcery.

"That is what gives me hope for him, actually," Gaius replied quietly. "The only time through all this we know Merlin has used magic was when he attacked me. Even then, he did not do so in such a way that it might kill me. I am hoping that that is a part of him that has not been taken over. Perhaps… perhaps he has not used his magic otherwise because that part of him that seeks to remain hidden is still there."

That wasn't exactly encouraging, the thought that there was a natural part of Merlin that wished to protect himself from the others. Lancelot had, of course, known it was there, and with good reason, and had always done his part to protect his friend, driven by that same worry. But with this current situation, more fear was not what they needed.

"It's not us he needs to worry about now. It's that witch. She's gonna know now."

They all winced, realizing Gwaine's point was true. Gaius had gone even paler than he'd already been. Merlin had always held himself responsible for how Morgana had turned out. He'd always wondered if he could have helped her by telling her he was a sorcerer too. How Morgana would feel about it, they didn't know, but it couldn't be good.

"Not that we don't have enough bad news to deal with at the moment, but there's something more."

Something more was not what either of his audience wanted to hear.

"I went down to the dungeons. The manacles are gone."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I'm back! If you haven't read my heartfelt apology over on ****_Day and Night _****(which you should *shameless self-promo*), here is one now: I'm so sorry I've disappeared for so long. I was gone with family for a long while, and then for some reason the site wouldn't let me upload to this story at all. I don't know why.**

**Things are about to get interesting though (you know, as if they weren't already). So sit back (or stand up, I don't know your life) and enjoy! Now that the major question has been answered, the pace will pick up from here, although there are still some answers to come, possibly to questions you haven't even thought of yet! If you do have something you think I haven't answered, feel free to drop it in the reviews and if I forgot it or didn't think of it I'll be sure to include it! I would hate wrap up the story and leave you hanging!**

**(These next two chapters are sort of part one/part two deal, but never fear! I have both written and typed, so if it will let me, you'll get both parts in short order!)**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

Morgana was panting as they rematerialized in the forest. She hadn't had the strength left to take them all the way back to her hovel. Honestly she was lucky they'd made it out of the citadel. Merlin still squirmed in her grasp. Morgana let go, allowing him to drop to the ground, his twitches back in full form. She leaned back against a nearby tree, unsure what to do now. Arthur may have been surprised to see them, especially her, but he would be after them in a second. She wasn't going to be able to carry Merlin to safety, nor would he be able to carry himself in the state he was in. Morgana wasn't even sure she could carry _herself_.

It was only a few hours now until dawn (contrary to popular belief, teleportation wasn't an instantaneous process; it took time to move from one location to another, particularly when one didn't have much power behind their spell). Even if Arthur waited until first light to send out troops, they couldn't get nearly far enough away. But Morgana was not a quitter. No matter what anyone thought, she had fought for everything in her life, and she wasn't about to stop now.

"Merlin, get up," Morgana demanded shakily, though she knew it wasn't going to happen. But the command gave her the feeling of power she sorely needed. "We have to move."

If she was honest, a part of her was glad he was so helpless right now. Her anger with him before for hiding his magic would be nothing compared to his anger with her for hiding her entire identity all this time, not to mention every other crime he held against her. She'd seen Merlin angry before, and he hadn't even used magic to lash out in those instances, not to her knowledge. Now that he didn't have to hide from her, there was no telling what he would do.

It seemed Merlin wasn't sure either. He lay in his heap on the ground, breathing heavily. He wouldn't even look at her. Finally he forced his limbs under some sort of control, pushing himself into a sitting position. When he lifted his head to lock eyes with her, Morgana had to steel herself from shuddering under his glare. _You knew this wouldn't be easy. Just because he wants to kill Arthur doesn't mean he doesn't still want to kill you, too._

"What do you want, Morgana?" His voice was hard, holding no trace of the fear he'd had before.

"To help." It was even true, to a point.

"_I don't want your help_."

"Fine. I'll just leave you here, shall I?" Morgana snapped, her control fraying quickly under her exhaustion. "Let's forget I just saved you from being killed by Arthur and the knights, or that they could be on their way right now to try again. Let's forget that you can't even move to try and run from them on your own. You go on and save yourself, Merlin! That's the only thing you think about, after all, isn't it? That's why you've been lying to me for years! You were protecting yourself.

"I _needed_ you, Merlin, just like you need me now. But unlike you, I don't turn away the people who need me. I will _not_ leave you here to die."

With that she heaved him up and stubbornly began the transportation spell again, inwardly praying they would make it to the hovel this time, but knowing instantly they were hardly much closer than before. Once more she dropped the servant to the ground, collapsing beside him to catch her breath. Morgana let out a frustrated shriek. Why did this have to be so _difficult_? He could have helped her. Despite everything he'd been through, she was certain he could do the spell better than she could right now, if only she taught him the words.

Morgana lifted a palm. She was done being nice about this. With a flash of gold, she blasted Merlin across the forest just as he had sent Gaius across the room earlier. If she had to, she would do this the entire way back to the hovel.

Where she suddenly realized they couldn't stay. The knights had found Merlin there before. They had no reason to suspect he'd go back there, but they had no reason to suspect he wouldn't, especially if they connected her with the hut. But she had nowhere else for them to go. Not with them both weakened and Merlin unwilling to cooperate. Morgana decided she would just have to think of a way to keep them out.

They worked their way through the forest, each burst of Morgana's spell weaker than the last, until Merlin was barely rolling along. Finally she dropped her hand. There was no way around it. They had to rest. She could only hope one or the other of them recovered before Arthur and his men found them. It was possible, she reassured herself. After all, with the teleportation, they'd left little trail. Technically speaking, they would have no idea where to start, and the forest was a big place. The chances that they would just happen to come across their resting place here… It was a risk she was willing to take. Or at least one she was going to have to take.

Merlin didn't fight her as she propped him up against a tree. Morgana wasn't sure if he had passed out again or been knocked unconscious at some point by her rough treatment. At this point, she didn't really care anymore. She had been foolish to think anything could change between them just because he had seemed to be more like her now, both of them having magic and the same goal to bring about the fall of Arthur. Merlin was nothing like her. He never would be.

Morgana sat down next him, pinning his arms behind his back so they wouldn't flail and hurt her, then leaning her head down to use his shoulder as a pillow. Just because she didn't care for him didn't mean she couldn't make use of him, after all. It was because him they were stuck out here in the first place. Alone, even in her exhausted state, she might have been able to stumble her way back to the hovel. But together it was impossible.

Why was she even bothering to keep him now? A tiny niggle in the back of her mind kept poking her with the thought that perhaps his condition would never improve, that he would be broken and pathetically useless like this forever. What was the point of keeping him around if he couldn't help her?

But he still had magic.

Even when he could barely walk through the castle, Merlin had been able to use his magic, or at least he had for that one brief moment. If he still had any control over that at all, perhaps Morgana could still use him. Perhaps they could still make this work.

She would make it work.

* * *

"Relax, Gwaine, we're going to find them."

Gwaine snorted. Lancelot wasn't really the best person to be telling _him_ to relax. The other knight had his muscles screwed up so tight he wasn't sure how the man was moving his neck to look around. The problem was, they had no clue where to start. There was no trail. And if they had known where Morgana was hiding, they would have gone after her weeks ago. There was no way of telling whether they would have gone to a place of her choosing or of Merlin's, nor could they imagine where any such places would be.

The only hint they had was the rundown little hut the knights had found Merlin in in the first place. It looked like someone was living there at the time, someone who wasn't around when they showed up to take Merlin into custody. It was a long shot, but it was all they had to go on.

So here they were, trudging through the woods once more, searching for any sign of Merlin. Knights and soldiers had been sent out in all directions. Arthur had fought to go along with them, but he ultimately lost. The knights, Gaius, Agravaine, all of them had insisted it was too dangerous, that he was still recovering, that Merlin's fear and Morgana's anger was directed towards him most of all. But Arthur couldn't bring himself to stay on the side-lines any longer. So just to give him something to do, he had been sent to Ealdor to inform Merlin's mother of her son's condition. Gwaine didn't really see the point in telling Merlin's mum –why worry the poor woman over something she could do nothing about?– but he'd been outvoted.

He didn't like anything about any of this, really. It was so much simpler when he could even just imagine Merlin had actually turned psycho killer of his own free will. Then it all could have been about spiriting Merlin away from Camelot, the two of them living off their wits, never needed to understand the motivation behind the action, simply accepting there had been a good one and forever leaving it at that. Why could it have stayed that nicely? Gwaine would have even taken the whole enchanted angle. Because that could be fixed, no harm, no foul. It would give him someone to hunt down. This… this meant he was still chasing his best friend like a criminal, all with no guarantees that when he found him the person he was would ever return.

Although, he supposed they were no longer hunting him as a _criminal_, not really. No, they were tiptoeing towards him like a he was a Trojan horse, waiting for the cold-blooded army within to emerge. Gwaine knew no one, not even Arthur, believed now even the slightest that Merlin wanted to be acting the way he was. But only Gwaine, Lancelot, and Gaius knew what the endgame could consist of if the entirety of the real Merlin was quashed by the poison. Whether the real Merlin wanted to or not, poisoned Merlin would no longer hesitate to take them all down with his magic, fear of discovery completely wiped away.

And if Morgana used the boy's vulnerable state to whisper her own plans into his ear… Gwaine shuddered to think what might come to pass.

* * *

Merlin woke to a weight sprawled across his lap. His lip curled up in revulsion as he recognized the matted hair of Morgana. He tried to throw her off, but his stupid limbs still wouldn't cooperate with him. But this… this would not do.

"Morgana." His voice was hardly more than a croak. She stirred only slightly, snuggling her head deeper into his stomach and gripping his shirt between her fingers in her sleep. He stiffened and cleared his throat, calling her name much more forcefully this time. "Morgana, wake up, now."

Morgana rolled onto her back, her eyes fluttering slowly open. Suddenly they snapped open wide, and she shot upright, scrambling away from him. He glared at her even as a blush spread across her cheeks. How dare she think she had the right to even come near him now? She gave that up when she chose Morgause. He didn't care about what she'd done to Camelot; Camelot was nothing. But she'd allowed Morgause to tie him up and leave him for dead. Threatened to have him killed by Uther. Actually tried to kill him herself on one occasion, probably more than that if he allowed himself to dwell on it. She could have stayed loyal to him, and maybe things would be different now. But she hadn't.

He'd done everything for her. Almost everything. He hadn't told her about his magic. But he'd been the one honest person who had told her about hers. He'd gotten her help from the druids (or at least tried to). He had protected her from the witchfinder and the king and Arthur. He had even saved her when she lay dying, despite _everything_ she had done, _everything_ he knew she would do.

She didn't deserve to touch him, to speak to him, to _look_ at him with anything akin to friendship.

"I told you before. Go away."

"Actually you said no such thing. I believe your exact words were 'I don't want your help.' To which I very politely told you where you could shove your silly little wants."

"Why are you doing this?" He didn't actually care what her reasoning was. It wouldn't sway him either way. It was just a question. A stall tactic while he decided how best to get rid of her, how to get himself out of here. He felt stronger now after even such a brief nap than he had before, but it was still those cursed spasms that kept him immobile.

Morgana didn't answer for a moment, turning away from him. He wondered what lies she was cooking up in her mind to try to convince him this time. Merlin swore he wouldn't be drawn in. When she turned back, any trace of embarrassment from before was gone, and for a moment he thought he saw a glimpse of the old Morgana, imperious and proud and headstrong, but without the bloodthirsty need for revenge marring her features. He couldn't deny there was the tiniest sliver that was trying to push through that was pleased to see it. "Is it so hard to believe that I could do something good for once? Honestly, Merlin, I thought we knew each other, once upon a time. Now I see you knew me as little as I apparently knew you. Fine. You want to know why I'm here? Because you and I want the same thing: the death of Arthur. Together we can make that happen. After that, I don't care what you do. If you still want to oppose me, so be it."

Merlin felt his blood run cold. Of course. Although she didn't know it, with his powers he could bring Camelot to its knees faster than she could ever dream. He could then dispose of her once and for all. It would be all too easy. Yet he could see it on her face. She harboured some kind of mad hope he would not only join her for the conquest, but stay with her after.

Well, that would never happen.

His plan had finished forming. Why he hadn't thought of it before, Merlin didn't know. And the best part was there was nothing she could do to stop him. That knowledge gave him the ability to grant her his very first smile in days. A smile that, despite her relief he had stopped glowering, completely terrified her.

Then he turned his head to the sky and began to shout hoarsely, "**O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes! Erkheo!"**

* * *

**EDIT: I'm sorry again! It has literally taken me a half an hour to get even an edit to upload to tell you to the site is driving me insane! I will get the second half up ASAP, I swear!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I think our uploading troubles are over now. I hope. If they aren't, I'm going to have to put my head through a wall. I'm not even going to try to make promises anymore about when things will go up, so that I stop being made into a liar. Although, my plan is to have both my long fics done before uni starts up again.**

**Luckily this just happens to be a slightly longer chapter to make up for all the trouble we've gone through!**

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

Agravaine had been torn.

On the one hand, he had Arthur, out traveling on his own. Agravaine knew where he was headed, knew the route he was taking to get there, knew when he was expected back. It would have been so simple to just go after him and kill him and blame it all on the mad manservant. No one would ever suspect him, and this whole thing could be over and done with.

On the other hand, he had a duty to report what he knew to Morgana. Specifically that she could be in danger. Being in charge of the hunt for the culprit who had ensorcelled the servant, Agravaine had been told immediately of the development in the theory of what was wrong with the boy. Of course the prince regent had expressed fear for what Morgana would do to him, but Agravaine knew better. In fact, he was perhaps the only one now who did know.

He'd only been working for Morgana for a short period of time and already he itched to do more for her. So he found the mercenary camp. He did what he needed to hire them.

_"And you can ensure me the task will be completed? The prince __**will**__ die?"_

_"Don't you worry. We have our own special weapon. Ain't nobody from Camelot ever gets past him. For a little something extra we'll even make sure he's extra special prepared for the job."_

_Agravaine didn't know what they meant, and he honestly didn't care. So long as it was done. Then he could tell Morgana, and she would know he, too, was so much more than just a pretty face._

Now that Morgana's disguise had been revealed, everyone was certain she was the one behind it all in the first place. Yet because of him she was as in the dark as the rest of them. Upon discovering exactly what that "secret weapon" was he had been hinted at, Agravaine knew he had to get to her before it was too late. She had always scoffed at any indication that the boy could pose a physical threat to her. But now he had made not one, but three attempts on the prince's life, and even Morgana had been impressed enough in the first place to seek him out. If this poison-induced change made it so she could not control him…

He galloped through the trees. There was one stop he had to make before he went to look for Morgana. He only hoped it wasn't in vain. As Agravaine approached the place he'd met the mercenaries before, he slowed. Dismounting, he let out a whistle and waited, praying.

"What do you want? Our business is concluded. At the loss of several of my finest men I might add.

Agravaine ignored the man's gruff words. "The poison used on the servant. I need to know more about it."

The man stepped back, eyes shielded behind feigned surprise, hand firmly on his sword hilt. "What poison? What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Agravaine growled. "The one that makes him fear the prince. Tell me, now. Or else I may just direct the search for dregs of Prince Arthur's attackers in this direction. He isn't completely stupid; he does know some of you are still out here."

"I told you, we had a weapon. A weapon we don't have anymore, thanks to you. But it was a man, not a toxin. We never used anything but swords against them."

"Obviously one of you did," he hissed. "Tell me about the man."

"He was under the influence of a drug. A powerful one, one we found on the black market. We were told it would help you to focus on your target. We only found out later the truth of it. The rest of us stopped, but when we tried to take Karl off… let's just say things were better left alone, no matter how jumpy he acted. We don't know if he'd taken more or what, but it was only him."

"What happened to him? When you made him stop?"

The mercenary shuddered. "He… changed. At first we thought he was just being moody or restless, but then it only got worse. He'd been laughing one second and blowing up the next. Literally, I thought he might try that one night. We had to give him the drug again just to keep him from killing us all and himself."

So Morgana was in danger. "And giving it to him again helped? It stopped it?" Arthur had told him that Gaius said taking it would kill the sections of the brain beyond repair, but perhaps it was better that way. If it kept the boy from killing him and Morgana before they could get him to actually succeed in offing Arthur, Agravaine didn't care what his mind turned into. Morgana herself was half-mad already.

"It made him manageable, that's all. We'd give him a bit, then wait as long as we could before giving him some more. We figured out pretty quick that if he'd been off it a while before a job he worked better. Now that's all the information you're going to get unless I get something in return. What's this about a servant?"

"Somehow Prince Arthur's servant was given the poison during the attack. Don't bother trying to deny it; traces were found on his things. Now what you're going to do is give me whatever store of it you have left, and then we'll both go on our merry way."

He let out a barking laugh. "You think I want the stuff anymore? We lost use for it when we figured out it was slowly killing us. Now that Karl's gone, you're welcome to take it as far away as possible." His expression sobered. "But if you're thinking to use it, let me give you a friendly piece of advice: Don't. No matter what you think, it's not worth it. I wasn't the only one to wonder nightly whether or not we should just kill Karl and put him out of his misery. I may not be a very moral man, but my biggest regret will always be that we didn't do it."

The mercenary waved him over to a horse, digging through his saddle bag. He tossed a pouch over to him. "Here. This is the lot of it. But heed my advice. If you hadn't come along when you did, that stuff was going to burn. I suggest you follow through on that."

With that he was gone. Agravaine tucked the pouch into his own saddle and mounted again. He tore off through the woods, drawing on the connection Morgana had formed between them at the start of their alliance to track them down. He had no intention of following what that stupid mercenary had said. He had the poison that controlled Merlin's mind, and he had the shackles that could control his body. He was going to save his niece.

Before his chance at the kingdom slipped through his fingers at the will of a serving boy.

* * *

_We're going to find him. It's going to be okay. We're going to find him._

Lancelot didn't allow for any other thought to run through his mind. They had no other choice. Merlin had to be found. Lancelot had to make up for everything he'd done in the past few days. He couldn't do that if Merlin's mind became so far gone he didn't even care for apologies anymore.

He especially couldn't do it if Merlin was dead.

Lancelot longed to believe what Gaius said was true. That part of Merlin was still there somewhere. That there was still something left to save. He just wasn't sure if it could be. Nothing he'd seen so far was reminiscent of the Merlin he'd once known. Not using his magic was the only hint they had to give him hope. And such a tiny hope it was. There could be a million reasons Merlin was restraining from using magic. Perhaps the poison was telling him he couldn't. Perhaps it was simply the drive of habit. Both were just as likely as the happier thought that part of Merlin was still himself.

Gwaine and Elyan rode beside him. Lancelot wished when they had split up he had managed to be stuck with a better group. Now he had to deal with Gwaine who, despite his insistence that he would never turn Merlin in now that he knew about the magic, still didn't know everything, not like Lancelot and Gaius did. They couldn't tell him. It wasn't theirs to tell. If Merlin wished to reveal his destiny and demons to Gwaine once they got him back (_Because we're going to get him back. We're going to find him. It's going to be okay_) that was his decision.

And then there was Elyan, who despite everything still didn't even seem to believe that Merlin was innocent, especially now that they knew Morgana was involved. Lancelot had watched from across the courtyard as Elyan had gotten into a near shouting match with Gwen before they left for the search. When Lancelot had gone to make sure she was okay, she had brushed him off and fled, but it didn't take a genius to figure out it had been about Merlin. He was quite certain that even now if he didn't stop his muttered statements Gwaine was about to run the man through.

Suddenly the air _thrummed_. The three men slowed their horses to a halt with difficulty. For some reason their mounts had begun to shift nervously beneath them. Then the forest was filled with an almighty thunder that nearly flattened them to the ground.

"Merlin."

Lancelot took off again through the trees, the others close behind. He didn't know what was happening, but he did know one thing: it was Merlin. And something, something deep inside told him that whatever it was, it wasn't good.

* * *

"What did you do?" Morgana's eyes were wide, with anger or panic even she wasn't sure. She had recognized none of those guttural words. Though she had immediately braced herself for some type of attack, none came. Merlin's eyes hadn't even changed colour to indicate he'd done magic. "_What did you just do_?"

The sound started from behind her, but even as Morgana whirled around she came to realize it was not simply behind, but above. Something was coming through the air. Something Merlin had just summoned. But Merlin wasn't answering her now. He had abandoned his glaring anger for fits of giggles. What he had to be amused by she couldn't see. In a fit of rage she grabbed him by the collar and shoved him roughly up against the tree trunk.

"Get a hold of yourself. What have you done, Merlin? Tell me, now!" The sound was getting louder, closer. Morgana threw the servant to the ground where he continued to lay, laughing hysterically. The clatter of hooves had joined it, coming from what seemed like all directions.

She had to get out of here. But to do that, she would have to leave Merlin. Which meant that everything she had just gone through would be for naught. If Arthur got a hold of him again, there would be no second escape for Merlin. The best he could wish for would be a private execution here in the forest, quick and painless. Which left her on her own once more.

_You were always on your own_. Morgana threw a glance at the trembling, cackling servant and knew it was true. No matter what Merlin might feel about Arthur and Camelot, he never would have joined her. It filled her with an unexplainable sadness, which she immediately brushed away. She didn't want his allegiance anyway. He'd proved time and time again his "loyalty" meant nothing. She was better off alone, just as she'd always been.

How she was always meant to be.

Morgana had just begun the first words of the teleportation spell when the dragon came into view, shock cutting off any further attempt to speak. Huge and golden it soared over the treetops, powerful wings sending buffets of wind to knock her back into a tree, dazing her slightly. It landed metres away, ignoring the greenery it had to flatten to make room. Ribbons of smoke puffed from his nostrils. Morgana quickly ducked behind a tree behind it caught sight of her and roasted her alive.

Merlin had ignored the arrival of the great beast, though his manic peals of laughter had increased to a frenzied pitch. The dragon snorted angrily at the sight. "Young warlock, what has befallen you?" Receiving no answer, it tried again. "_Merlin!_ What is the meaning of this? What has the witch done to you?"

The giggles cut off abruptly. "Why don't you ask her?" Merlin's voice was hollow. "She's here right now. She couldn't have gotten far."

Morgana's heart caught in her throat. She had heard the vehemence in the dragon's voice when it spoke her, the witch. She was quite certain that Merlin did too. That that was the purpose of him calling it here, however he had done it. He wanted the dragon to kill her.

Merlin looked up at Kilgharrah, who stared down at him, blinking rapidly but making no movement. It was clear that even the knowledge that Morgana was nearby was not enough to deter him from his concern over Merlin's condition. "Witch!" he bellowed. "What evil have you wrought over him? Face me, she-demon!" Merlin heard a distinct squeak of fright, but Morgana did not emerge from her hiding place. He hadn't expected her to. But that was why the dragon was here. She could run, but she could not hide forever, not from a dragonlord.

Kilgharrah did not take his eyes off Merlin for more than a few seconds at a time even as he began snaking his head through the trees, seeking out the witch. What she had done to the warlock he did not know, but he would find out, and she would pay. There were many times when it came to Merlin that the dragon wished he were all-knowing as to what went on in his life, and this was one of them. Something had been happening, something terrible, and he had known nothing until now. When it was possibly too late.

He spotted her just as the horses burst onto the scene, three from one direction, one from another. The silly animals took one look at him and tried to bolt, almost throwing their riders. He recognized a few of those riders only vaguely from visions he'd had of the future. Those ones were on the warlock's side, that much he knew. The knights froze in their saddles at the sight of them, their only movement tried to still their terrified mounts. The lone rider took one look at the scene and fled. Kilgharrah decided to ignore that one. He had other things to deal with.

The witch tried to turn and run. Like it was such a simple thing to flee from him when he had his prey in sight. With one swipe he had her in his talons, drawing her close. Morgana screamed, blathering curses and enchantments and other ridiculous mortal magic in an attempt to escape him. But there was only one type of magic that would work against him, and the one who could use it was curled up twitching on the ground, his hysterical laughter now morphing into simple hysterics. He was pointing and shouting and probably trying to use his powers to give Kilgharrah an order, but it was so entangled in giggles and crying and rage that all meaning was lost from his words.

Kilgharrah was torn. He wanted to kill the witch. He _needed_ to kill the witch. But it was his duty to protect Merlin, his dragonlord and kin. Merlin needed the witch to live to save him from whatever horrors she had wrought. Making a decision, he smashed the girl in his claws against the closest tree. Immediately she was knocked unconscious. Unceremoniously he dropped her before the knights, who still hadn't broken out of their shock.

"Tell me; what has she done to the boy?"

The knights jumped in surprise at being addressed by the great beast. With a shaky voice one of them answered, "He's been poisoned. He tried to kill the prince."

That was not right. The young warlock would never do that, no matter what had been done to him. But if these men thought so, perhaps Merlin was not as safe with them as he'd first thought.

"It's a poison of the mind. He doesn't know what he's doing. He thinks we're going to kill him."

"Are you?" he growled. Merlin's destiny was greater than any poison, he knew, but the evils of men could not be ignored. He would take the warlock away and heal him himself if he had to. They would figure out how to get him back into Camelot as a wanted fugitive afterwards. "If it is of the mind, then what is wrong with his body?" It was impossible to ignore the way the young man could not control his arms or legs.

"That… that was… it was a mistake." The man explained about the manacles, and the dragon roared in rage. The horses did throw the men this time, and they landed on the ground with several hard thuds. Only one managed to regain his feet and grab a set of reins before the animal bolted into the woods after the others.

Kilgharrah was seething. He could not fix this. There was no magic he knew that could bring back what Merlin had lost from those shackles. And without knowing the poison used, there was little he could do about that, either, besides what he had already.

He should have burned Camelot to the ground when he had the chance.

"Take the witch and go. If she refuses to tell you how to heal him, tell her I will come and kill her myself. And my flames are far less pleasant than any pyre she could ever dream of standing upon."

* * *

The journey alone to Ealdor gave Arthur plenty of time to think, but thinking was not really something he wanted to be doing right then, so instead he rode with even his mind in silence, pushing himself and his mount harder than he normally would to reach the little village in a day rather than the normal day and a half.

He had to take a moment outside the village to steel himself, though. Not thinking meant he hadn't prepared anything to say. How do you tell a mother her son is essentially losing his mind? But Gaius had suggested letting Hunith know and bringing her back to tend to Merlin once he had recovered enough to see her, to give him another layer of support in what were sure to be rough times ahead. So here Arthur was.

He knocked on the door in time to the thudding of his heart. Part of him prayed it wouldn't open, that she wasn't home right then, so he could put it off for just a bit longer. But it did.

"Prince Arthur? What are you doing here? I mean, um, please, come in, my lord. Is Merlin taking care of the horses?"

Of course she assumed Merlin was with him. Because that's where he should have been.

Hanging his head, he shook it lightly. "I have to tell you something. It's about Merlin."

* * *

**P.S. In case you're wondering, why yes, that was dragon for "I want you roast in the fiery depths of hell." Kilgharrah's not very nice, is he?**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: If you follow my tumblr at all, you know I've been having some personal problems lately, so I'm afraid updates will continue to be sporadic. Writing is my outlet, though, so things are being written, I just am either not having time to post them or I don't have the motivation. Luckily we only have a few chapters left of this story!**

**(Also, I've decided this is an AU in which Lancelot totally knows about Merlin being a dragonlord. Not that it stops him from being completely terrified about being around a ****_dragon_****.)**

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

Getting everyone back to Camelot proved to present several issues. For one, they currently had one horse and five people. One of whom was unconscious, another who was hysterical, and both of which desiring nothing more than to kill the other three. They'd slung Morgana up over the saddle, praying she would remain unconscious until they could somehow lock her up. Gwaine wasn't even sure he wanted to think about attempting to get close to Merlin. One wrong move and the boy would bolt again, that they all knew. This wasn't like the hovel they'd found him in, where he'd been confined by walls, unable to run. Merlin could flee in any direction he wished at any moment, and he had both magic and apparently an irate dragon to help him.

"What are we going to do about _him_?" Elyan gestured to where Merlin lay curled up on the ground, rocking and twitching. At the moment he didn't seem to be paying much attention to the knights, lost in his own little world. "We can't carry him. He'll fight us the whole way, even with the ropes we brought."

"Knock him out again?" Lancelot winced even as he said it. _Haven't I done enough damage already? Guess I can't possibly do much worse now._ "I'm afraid it's the only way we'll be able to get him back to Camelot with all of us in one piece."

"Not so, young knight." The dragon swept out his paw again and this time closed his talons around the servant, eliciting panicked yelps from the knights and belligerent shrieks from Merlin. "I will carry the boy to Camelot. He will be safe with me." The threat of "_If you attempt to render him unconscious, you will not be safe with me,"_ hung unspoken in the air.

"Perhaps one of us should go with you," Lancelot suggested over the sounds of Merlin's angry screams. The dragon glared at him, so he quickly added, "Not because we don't trust you to take care of him or anything… it's just, well, you're a… _dragon,_" he finished lamely. "I don't see anyone in Camelot taking kindly to you landing in the midst of the city. Which means you'll have to land outside it. Someone should be there to either watch Merlin or defend you until reinforcements come."

Because of the others, Lancelot couldn't mention his biggest fear: that Merlin might attempt to use his dragonlord powers to command the Great Dragon to attack Camelot. If he did, there would be nothing they could do to stop it. The only hope they had was that sliver of hope that Merlin would continue to refrain from using his magic around them. Of course, he might not refrain around Lancelot himself, since Merlin knew that Lancelot knew. But there was another who might be able to keep an eye on him in case something slipped. Someone Merlin didn't know about yet. It looked like it was time to decide whether or not he truly trusted Gwaine.

"Gwaine," the name grated reluctantly out between his teeth. "You should go. You won't be able to walk back to Camelot on that leg anyway, and I'm not sure it's safe for any of us to ride with Lady Morgana."

Gwaine didn't protest, immediately stepping up towards the great beast, though not without a modicum of apprehension on his face. The dragon grumbled something under its breath, but finally acquiesced, bowing his head to the ground so that the man might climb onto his neck.

"If you travel quickly, the witch should remain asleep until you reach Camelot. If she does awaken, however, you must deal with her efficiently. If she escapes, I will be most displeased." With that he lept into the sky, angling towards the city.

Elyan and Lancelot exchanged worried glances. This could be an interesting trip back.

"I vote we _don't_ tell Arthur about this, eh?"

* * *

"So, um, how did you find us?"

Even on dragon-back the trip to the city took a while to complete. As he often did when he was nervous (or happy, or drunk, or pretty much any emotion), Gwaine passed the time by trying to make inane conversation. Unfortunately the dragon wasn't biting, no pun intended.

"Was it Merlin? Did his magic do something?" It was a bit of a risk, mentioning his friend's secret to the great beast, but he had a feeling from the way the dragon treated Merlin that the creature meant Merlin the least harm of them all.

At least it got him a reply. "You would do well not to speak of such things so lightly."

"Oh, trust me, nothing light about it. So how'd he do it? Is there like a special spell or something? Can all sorcerers do it?"

"The young warlock is my kin. Only he has the power to command me."

"Command?" Gwaine gulped and lowered his voice, though he was still reasonably shouting to be heard above the whipping wind. "Do you mean he could… you know, make you do something like, well…"

"Yes. He could order me to kill you all. But he has not yet, nor I do believe he would, even now. In fact, I have been previously ordered to never harm Camelot or its inhabitants. Except for the witch. He desired me to kill her, which is why he called for me, though in his current state he did not get around to commanding me as he could. However, his intentions were clear."

Merlin hadn't let up on his stream of abuse the entire ride back, cursing the dragon, Gwaine, Arthur, Camelot. Gwaine had tried to tune it out for the most part. If he listened to any of it he would just get depressed. "Well, at least he hates all of us equally, eh?" He chimed weakly.

"That is not true. He does not hate the witch."

Gwaine's jaw popped open. A bug flew down his throat, and he quickly snapped it shut, sputtering and choking. "Wh-what do you mean?" he protested when he could speak again. "Of course Merlin hates Morgana. Why else would he want you to kill her?"

"The young warlock feels many ill things towards the witch. Anger, regret, shame, guilt. If he fears her, it is not for his own sake, but for the sake of those he calls friend and brother. But he does not hate her. Even now, after all she has done, he does not wish her dead, no matter what this poison curse may suggest. That is why he called for me to kill her instead of doing so himself as he is more than capable of doing."

"How do you know? What on earth can possibly make you think that?"

"Because Merlin has had the chance to allow her to die three times now. Each time it was he who put her life in danger. And yet each time it was he who saved her life. He has done so even knowing who she is and what she shall do."

Gwaine sat in stunned silence. Merlin had _saved_ Morgana. He considered the theory that it was the part of Merlin that still remained free of the poison's influence that kept him from using magic. The dragon thought that Merlin was simply too far gone to order him to kill Morgana. But perhaps he was not. Perhaps it was that small part again, a part that contained Merlin's desire for Morgana to live.

He didn't want to think about this right now. He couldn't. "If… If Merlin asks you to do something, you have to do it?" The dragon grunted an affirmative. "What if he asked you to heal him?"

"I cannot. To heal something such as thing, I must know what has gone wrong. Although I know it is a poison, without a knowledge of the kind, I can do nothing for him. Nor can I fix the affliction caused by your… _human error_." The dragon spat the last words with palpable vehemence. Gwaine had a feeling that if it weren't for the beast's need to get Merlin to safety as soon as possible and inability to cure the boy himself, he would probably be down that ominous throat right now.

Which Gwaine personally found a bit unfair, since he hadn't even technically been there when it happened… except when Arthur and Gaius had explained the plan. And technically he had protested… a tiny bit. Clearly not enough. The dragon was right to be angry. They were knights. They were supposed to protect those in their care, including their insanely loyal, always dependable friend. They had failed at their duty miserably. They didn't even deserve to get Merlin back.

But Merlin… Merlin deserved to be well. And that was all that mattered.

* * *

Things were not going as planned.

But that was okay. Agravaine was not a quitter. It did not matter how many road blocks were thrown in his way. He wasn't like his brother Tristan had been, rashly challenging his enemies to a fight he could not win out of hurt and rage. He was much more patient, strategic. He could figure this out.

He would just have to change the plan. All was not lost. He'd had a back-up monarch for a reason. Morgana being captured –or killed; he hadn't really stuck around to find out– by the knights and a giant, fire-breathing dragon did not mean the end. In fact, it may be better for him this way. He cared about the girl, to be sure, but she was a wild arrow. There was no telling where she might land or whether she would even still consider him an ally from one minute to the next.

And the fact was that he was currently in power now. With Arthur gone, he was next in command. Which meant that when –if– they returned with prisoners, he would be the one in charge of deciding what to do with them. At least until Arthur's return. He would have to act fast. Really, Agravaine should have never left the city. Morgana could fend for herself.

It hadn't been a wasted trip, however. He still had the manacles, and now he had the poison. He could decide how best to use them, without having to consult with anyone else. He could kill the boy. He could poison the knights and turn them all against Arthur. It was all up to him.

Agravaine liked it best that way.

He raced back to Camelot. He'd have to come up with some kind of excuse why he was there and not out searching for the servant boy still. Agravaine was reasonably sure that in all the shock and confusion of the scene with the dragon he hadn't been spotted, or if he had, he was certain he hadn't been recognized. They had no reason not to believe it wasn't a coincidence, but he'd rather not take the chance.

It came to him as he clattered into the courtyard. _Honesty is the best policy._ "A dragon was spotted in the eastern woods. Go, take some men quickly to investigate, then report back to me immediately."

They wouldn't find anything, he was certain, but if the others returned or had returned already and were curious about his sudden appearance at least they would be able to confirm his story.

When the patrol reappeared, horror and awe on several faces, they had added two more to their number. The drunkard peasant knight rode with a bound and gagged manservant, who continued to squirm and attempt to scream obscenities at them all through his bindings. It took the knight and two guards to wrestle him across the courtyard into the castle. It was the first time Agravaine had actually laid eyes upon the boy himself throughout this entire ordeal. So far he'd been too busy gathering information for Morgana to go catch a glimpse of him. He was astonished by the change in the usually mild-mannered young man. He wondered how much of his current attitude was due to the poison and how much was due to detoxing from it.

_"He changed… He'd been laughing one second and blowing up the next. Literally, I thought he might try that one night. We had to give him the drug again just to keep him from killing us all and himself."_

"Put the boy in the dungeons, and be sure to use our strongest restraints. The last thing we need is for him to escape and make yet another attempt on the king's life." _Or anyone else's for that matter._

They did as they were told, although it was clear the knight was greatly uncomfortable as he affixed the shackles to the servant's wrists and ankles. Bandages from the last time he'd been locked up bunched up around his wrists as he struggled against the metal, causing his scabs to burst open and bleed again. Merlin tripped himself up once or twice before he figured out the ankle shackles weren't going to allow him to kick; however, he continued to jerk violently at the chains. One of the guards made to remove the gag, but the knight stopped him.

"He's not saying anything you want to listen to, trust me."

The old physician came hurrying down the steps just as they made to exit the cell. "Have you learned nothing from the last time, Gwaine? He'll tear himself to shreds if you just leave him there like that! Here, help me wrap him up in these."

He handed the knight a bundle of bandages and rags, and they set to work wrapping his wrists and ankles in them, cushioning them from the sharp edges. The boy didn't make it easy for them, attempting to wrench his limbs away when they tried to get a hold of him, but they just shortened the chains and gripped him harder. Agravaine watched, trying to keep the look of fascinated curiosity of his face. He probably shouldn't let them see that. Probably some other emotion such as pity or despair or even fear would be more appropriate.

"I brought a sedative too, but I'd like to avoid that for the moment. Things will get much worse for him over the next few days. It'll be better if while we can we keep him awake and talk to him. We need to remind him who he is and what the truth is about how he feels while his mind and emotions are recovering."

_But does anyone even know how Merlin feels? Does anyone even know Merlin?_ Gwaine had to wonder. Gwaine had once considered himself one of Merlin's best friends, after the prince and he hoped before Lancelot. Now, having learned secret after secret the boy was hiding, he wasn't so sure. And after talking to the dragon, Gwaine wasn't sure anyone could understand what had once and possibly still went on in that brain of his.

_I hope you really are still in there, Merlin. You're going to have to help us with this. You're going to have to help us figure out who you are._


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: And here's one more! I've almost finished writing all the chapters, so expect them to start going up quickly soon! Only one left to iron out. I must admit, this was never supposed to take two months to finish. I much prefer my old routine of updating daily. Hopefully when life settles down and I start classes again at uni I'll be able to go back to that.**

**Thank you once again to everyone who has reviewed, especially those who sent messages of support. It means a lot.**

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

Agravaine was there to supervise as an unconscious Morgana was thrown into the cell next to Merlin's and chained up just as he was. Unlike with the boy, however, they didn't bother to pad her limbs against chafing. Gaius simply checked to make sure her head injury wasn't anything too serious –by now Agravaine had the whole story of what had happened in the woods with the dragon; he breathed an internal sigh of relief to hear his brief arrival and departure from the scene had gone unnoticed in all the hubbub– and left her to wake on her own. The physician also sent one of the guards for special cuffs from the vaults, ones left over from the Great Purge and specially made to contain her magic.

Guards were posted at both cells around the clock. It wasn't hard to get volunteers. After Gaius's declaration of the boy's treatment, all of the knights Agravaine had noted to be closest to Arthur had proclaimed they wouldn't leave his side, setting up a rotation so there would always be someone with him, talking to him. Agravaine was glad he wasn't expected to do his part in the servant's rehabilitation. Other than seeing her locked up, he had been avoiding going to see Morgana. He was sure it was inevitable. One way or another he would have to go down there, or she would come up with a way to speak to him while they were apart.

But the knights had to listen to her, as they sat on a stool in Merlin's cell, trying to tune out her threats as they spoke instead to Merlin. Eventually Percival went over and tied a gag around her mouth, too. They didn't know why they couldn't just knock her out again. Not even Lancelot had any problem with that, but none of them followed through. Instead they simply did their best to ignore her.

Merlin was no longer fighting them or his chains, at least, except for the continuous jerking of his limbs. Instead he sat sullenly in the one corner of the room he could reach, staring at the wall and growling at his friends if they attempted to come near him. He gave no indication he heard anything they were saying, despite the fact that they kept up a near steady stream of chatter between them. Since it was preferable to him shouting about how he wanted to kill them all or cowering in fear all the time, they let it be. None of them would admit they found it slightly disconcerting. Merlin was supposed to be getting worse, after all.

But it wasn't until early the next morning that Gwaine began to worry. And it wasn't Merlin or his strange new attitude who instigated it.

He had been in the cells for a while when it happened, having taken the whole of the night shift. His time was almost up so that he would have to switch with Lancelot. It had been his mistake, he knew. He had dozed off on the stool, only to be awoken by angry hissing from the cell nearby.

"–call themselves your friends. How difficult is it, Merlin, to hear them speak such lies? To have to listen to them say how much they care when you know they want to kill you for who you are? To be forced to sit there, waiting to die? I could end this misery for you. I could end it all. All you have to do is let me out. They underestimate you. They hate you too much to even fear your powers. That's why they didn't attempt to restrain you as they did me. They didn't see the point. They think you're too weak to do any damage. Free me, Merlin, and together we can show them. Together we can make them pay."

Morgana kept up her barely audible stream, the cloth that had formed her gag now hanging loosely around her throat, taunting Merlin and making him promises by turn, not noticing that Gwaine could now hear her. Gwaine glanced surreptitiously over at Merlin to see how he was taking it, or if he was even awake himself to listen. The boy was still curled up in his corner, staring at the floor, but the look on his face said he was hearing every word. And he looked eerily interested in what she had to say.

_"He does not hate the witch… Even now, after all she has done, he does not wish her dead." _

Gwaine wondered if Morgana knew that was how Merlin felt. If she did and tried to use it to her advantage, she might actually be able to convince Merlin to free her simply so that she might live. Thus far she seemed to playing mostly on Merlin's obvious fear of his captors –Gwaine hated that his friend likely thought of them that way–, but there was no guarantee that left to continue speaking to him unhindered she wouldn't change tactics. The dragon hadn't mentioned anything about Morgana feeling the same way, and Gwaine knew he couldn't possibly be wrong about the sorceress's hatred for the servant. He had to stop her from trying to turn Merlin.

"Merlin," he growled, locking his eyes on Morgana, "she's lying. You know she's lying. If you let her go, she'll leave you here, if she doesn't kill you first. We're not the ones who want to hurt you. She is. I know you're finding it hard to believe right now, mate, but we're on your side. Morgana never has been."

"You'd know all about lying, wouldn't you, Merlin?" Morgana ignored Gwaine, her eyes only on Merlin. "You've done it every day since you came to Camelot, deceiving those who called you friend about who you really are. But you can't hide anymore, can you? They know about your magic now, Merlin. Arthur knows. He'll kill you for this, Merlin. He's the prince; he's hated sorcery his entire life. Why else do you think he hasn't come down here to see you? He can't stand to even look at you."

"Arthur doesn't know, Merlin. He's not here because he's gone to fetch your mother. He's bringing her back to help you."

Morgana's smirk widened. "Then won't that be a fun surprise for me to tell him when he returns? I must say, I should thank you for keeping your secret so well, Merlin. I always knew I was going to kill you, but I never thought I'd get to have this much fun doing it."

At her words the panic returned to Merlin full-force, phasing in and out with rage so quickly Gwaine was afraid he might slice of one of his hands with how hard he was now straining at the shackles, whether trying to get to him or Morgana, it was unclear. Gwaine leapt up from his stool, hurrying over to try to calm him. "Merlin! Merlin, mate, it's all right! No one is going to kill you! I swear, you're safe. Arthur doesn't know, but even if he did he wouldn't hurt you, I promise. I wouldn't let him, and neither would the others."

"Oh really?" Morgana sneered. "We'll see about that. I must say, I have never looked forward to seeing my dear brother more."

With that she settled down on the floor of her cell in a lotus position, smiling brightly at them. Gwaine gave up trying to calm Merlin for the moment, instead calling for the guards posted nearby. "Retie her gag and move her away to the furthest cell possible. I don't care if you have to take her to Mercia; just get her out of here and out of earshot."

He returned to his friend, trying not to show his despair as he watched Merlin flinch and rage in turns, blossoms of red on the rags around his wrists indicating that he had managed to reopen his wounds despite their best efforts to prevent him from doing so. This was not good. This was very, very not good. Gwaine hadn't lied when he said he would stop anyone from Merlin. But he couldn't be sure he wasn't lying when he said Arthur wouldn't hurt the servant. Morgana was right; Arthur _had_ hated sorcery his entire life. If anyone could change that it would be Merlin, but was that a risk he was willing to take?

He couldn't honestly say yes.

Which meant that somehow he had to stop Morgana from revealing Merlin's secret. He had sworn to Gaius that he would protect Merlin with his life. And that was exactly what he would do.

Somehow.

* * *

"Oh, Elyan, there you are. Leon asked me to ask you when you're available to sit with Merlin. You disappeared before they could work you into the rotation."

Gwen had searched all over for her brother, finally finding him at home, sitting at the table fiddling with his dagger. Elyan had moved out ages ago, when Arthur first knighted him, taking rooms in the castle, but he would often return to their childhood home when things got a bit overwhelming for him, as they did now and again. Elyan had never harboured dreams of being a knight. He was a blacksmith through and through. Adjusting to such a new life hadn't been easy for him.

And that was how Gwen knew that something was wrong. Not that she hadn't known before. Elyan had been acting off for ages now, ever since this whole debacle with Merlin first started. Gwen had always thought the two were friends. Never had either given any indication that they didn't get on. Yet here was Elyan, lobbing snide accusations and glaring looks whenever Merlin was mentioned. Why, just before everyone had left to go on the manhunt for Merlin and Morgana, the two siblings had gotten into a fight over it. Elyan had been refusing to go, saying if Merlin wanted to join Morgana, then that was his choice.

"What exactly is your problem, Elyan? You know for certain now that Merlin doesn't mean to be this way, not that you should have ever believed it in the first place."

"It's nothing, Gwen. Just leave it."

"I will _not_ leave it!" she cried in outrage. "Merlin is my friend, and yours too! I just don't understand why you're acting this way."

"He's got magic, Gwen! He's a sorcerer!"

Gwen stared at her brother in shock, at a loss for words. "How can you say such a thing?"

"Because it's true." Elyan glared stubbornly down at the table. "I saw him with my own eyes. He used magic against the mercenaries when we were fighting them."

"You-you shouldn't say that so loud. You could get Merlin killed with that kind of talk."

"He broke the law, Gwen. Isn't that what he deserves?"

"_No!_" How could anyone think killing _Merlin_ would a good thing? And her own brother of all people! "It doesn't matter if he _is_ a sorcerer. Merlin is the kindest person on the planet! He would never hurt anyone!" A memory came to her. "In fact, he saved my life with his magic once, and our father's, too! He was the one who created the poultice that healed him, I'm sure of it. And when he took the blame to try to save me from Uther, he wasn't just lying for my sake. He was actually willing to give himself up for me. That doesn't sound like a person who deserves to die, Elyan."

Elyan didn't answer, but throughout her speech his expression had gone from sullen to shameful. He still refused to look at her, twirling his dagger in his hand and staring at it much like he'd like to plunge it into his chest.

"I know you feel betrayed, Elyan, but you know Merlin. You know what he's like. You know that if this wasn't happening to him, he would still be the kind, loyal person you've come to know since you came here. And you know that if your positions were swapped and it was you who had been poisoned, Merlin wouldn't give up on you. So we can't give up on him."

Elyan's shoulders slumped, defeated. "But what do we do, Gwen?" His voice was barely a mumbled whisper. "What do we do if he gets better? Pretend we don't know? Act like nothing's changed?"

Gwen sat beside her brother, and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. Sometimes it was easy for her to forget that her brother was the elder of the two. It had always been the two of them, taking care of each other. Mostly her taking care of him. "_When _Merlin gets better, we'll figure it out from there. And no one will be able to pretend nothing's changed, Elyan. Too much _has_ changed for us to do that."

She sat back, shifting her grip to hold comfortingly onto his hands. "Now, will you please go sit with him? I need someone down there who won't lie to me about how he's doing."

Elyan flinched a little. "They still won't let you see him?"

Gwen shook her head, her irritation working its way back into her expression and voice. "Everyone keeps telling me it's too dangerous. What could possibly be dangerous about it? Merlin's chained up; it's not like he can do anything to me!"

"He could attack you with magic," Elyan suggested hesitantly, not wanting to draw her wrath on the subject again.

"He could have attacked Arthur with magic, too, or any one of you who's gotten close to him, or any of the knights who's been down there this whole time, but he hasn't. And he won't do it to me, either!" Gwen insisted stubbornly.

"Gwen, you haven't seen him. Yes, I know that's not your fault," he added quickly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "But what I mean is, whether he would actually try to hurt you or not, it's not easy... seeing him like that. The man in the dungeons, he's not… not _Merlin_. If you really want to… What I'm trying to say is, I won't stop you, I'll go with you, even, but you have to be prepared."

She paled a bit, but nodded determinedly. "I want to see him."

* * *

Lancelot came down as the guards were transferring Morgana. He said nothing about the change, simply raised his eyebrows at bit. Gwaine was still fighting with Merlin, not daring to touch him as he strained at his chains and trying instead to ease his struggling through talk. He briefly explained what had just happened between entreaties, leaving much of the conversation out and boiling it down to Morgana trying to get Merlin to fear them again. And that the sorcerer now knew his secret was no longer a secret.

"We can't count on him restraining himself to remain hidden anymore, then," Lancelot realized. "Not around us, anyway. We need to get someone else down here. We should have at least two of us guarding him at all times." He turned to his friend, who was glaring daggers at him and had abandoned his sullen silence to resume screaming through his gag. "Merlin. Merlin, listen to me. No one besides Gwaine and I knows you have magic. Not Arthur, not Leon, not anyone. We're not going to let anything happen to you, but you have to trust us. I once told you that I thought you were the bravest of us all. I need you to be brave for just a little while longer."

Miraculously, as he spoke, Merlin stilled. He still was glowering, his chest heaving from the exertion he'd been putting himself through, but he no longer fought his restraints or made any sound. Slowly, carefully, Lancelot moved a bit closer. Receiving no increased negative reaction, he reached his hand up to rest on Merlin's shoulder.

Merlin reared backwards with a shriek, his head connecting hard with the stone wall behind him. He swiped a clawed hand at the knight, who was yanked out of the way by Gwaine just in time. Merlin staggered slightly from the blow to the head, and then suddenly his rage was gone, replaced by pure fear. He collapsed to the ground, holding his legs tightly to the chest and rocking back and forth, staring at the floor and mumbling to himself around his gag.

"Oh, Merlin…"

Lancelot and Gwaine whirled around. Gwen stood in the doorway of the cell, her hand over her mouth, tears streaming down her face, horror in her eyes. Elyan stood just behind her shoulder. "Gwen, you shouldn't be–"

She cut him off with a raised hand, which shook as she gazed upon her friend. "I needed to come, Lancelot. And don't blame Elyan. I needed to see for myself. He understood that."

Elyan had been right. It was extremely difficult to see Merlin in his current state. Part of her wished now she hadn't been so insistent on doing so. It was no wonder Arthur had been so haunted after Merlin and Morgana had attacked him. It was hard even for Gwen to remember that this wasn't Merlin's fault, that he didn't want to be acting this way, feeling this way.

Gwen squared her shoulders, trying to re-gather the steely determination she'd held earlier. "How can I help? I'm not leaving him, so don't even suggest it."

Lancelot sighed in defeat. "Gaius says we're supposed to talk to him. To remind him of how his mind used to be."

"Right. Let's do that, then."

Gwen bypassed the stool and settled herself on the floor. The three knights listened as she began to speak to Merlin, telling him all about when he'd first come to Camelot. How she'd watched from the window as he confronted Arthur. "I thought you were both brave and foolish all at the same time. I still think that sometimes." Meeting him as he stood in the stocks, being pelted with rotten fruits and vegetables. "I admired how you were able to still be so happy, even though you were being tormented by the villagers. Not everyone would be making jokes while they were being punished like that." She'd known right then they were destined to become friends. "Even if you hadn't become Arthur's servant, I just know we would have been close. I'll be forever grateful that you got the job, though. I can't even imagine what it would be like without you around. Arthur would be different, that's for sure. You've changed him so much. He's not nearly the same bully he was when you first met that time in the square. You've changed us all.

The knights shifted awkwardly, none of them sure what to do, when she continued, her voice cracking a bit, "Please come back to us, Merlin. We need you to change us still."

* * *

Gwen refused to leave the rest of the day. The knights traded their shifts around her, always making sure now there were at least two of them there at all times to keep an eye on her and Merlin. Gwen kept up a constant chatter, retelling this story and that, some of which had little to do with Merlin, but were comforting all the same. She told him how Gwaine and Percival had become such good friends and how glad she was that her brother was here and happy. How Arthur had secretly picked her a bouquet of flowers once while hunting –she waited until Lancelot was not around to tell him that story– and how when they were children Leon and she had gone snuck out to go frog hunting many a night.

She steered away from any mention of magic. She wanted to hug him and tell him how grateful she was for saving her and her father all those years ago. _You barely even knew me then_. She wanted to tell him he wasn't alone anymore, that she and Elyan were going to look out for him. Fear kept her silent on those points, though. Gwen didn't want to scare him any more than necessary, and she had a feeling mentioning the one thing that really could get him killed, poison or no, wasn't the best idea.

It wasn't until night fell that the others, even Elyan, insisted that she leave. "You need rest, Gwen," her brother reminded her gently. "Look, even Merlin's going to sleep soon." He didn't mention that according to Gwaine, Merlin's fear of what they were going to do to him meant that he _hadn't_ fallen asleep the past night and as they didn't think he would tonight either Gaius was going to come down after Gwen left to give him a sleeping draught.

Gwen tried to protest, but they fell on deaf ears. "Fine. I'm returning in the morning, though. You can't stop me." She turned on her heel and left. They sighed in relief. Merlin had been having mood swings all day, ranging from hysterical laughter to blinding rage to quivering fear, but they all knew what was bound to come when they tried to give him the draught. Even Lancelot had refused to be present for it.

The ensuing battle was just as difficult as they had anticipated. Merlin kicked and clawed and shrieked abuse at them, the gag having been removed so that they could dose him. In the end it took four of them to hold him down, Percival gripping him in a headlock and prying his jaw open so that Gaius could pour the liquid down his throat. First came a mixture to give him nutrition, as they had been unable to feed him all day, fearing what would happen if they ungagged him and knowing Merlin likely wouldn't take the offering of food anyway. Next came the potion to lull him to sleep. Percival clamped Merlin's mouth shut so that he was forced to swallow each in turn. It seemed to be forever before the boy's muscles started to relax and his eyelids drooped.

"There you go, my boy. That's it, steady on. You just rest. Things will look better in the morning, you'll see."

The knights lay Merlin down gently on the floor of the cell, making sure not to tangle his chains. Gaius took advantage of his ward's unconscious state to check over his wounds, frowning at the still slightly infected state of his arm and re-cushioning his wrists and ankles where they had chafed through the rags. "If Morgana didn't give him anything, which means he hasn't had any more of the poison since I cleaned up his arm, then tomorrow should be the worst day. I'm not sure if these restraints will be enough to hold him."

"What if we just keep him unconscious until it's passed?" Leon suggested, though it was clear he was uncomfortable with the plan.

"I'm not sure that would work either. And if it doesn't, and Merlin wants to escape… He knows this castle better than anyone, perhaps even better than Arthur himself. There will be little we can do to stop him."

"So we just have to make sure he can't escape," Percival said matter-of-factly. He didn't seem to notice how three of the people present exchanged worried looks and one shifted nervously.

"Right…"

A servant suddenly came careening into the room. "Sirs, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but the prince has returned."


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Prepare for BAMF!Merlin. Or possibly Dark/Evil!Merlin, however you want to look at it. I prefer to think of it as BAMF, but that's because I have issues, and really, I wasn't kidding before when I said things were going to get bad. I'm going to need therapy after just writing this chapter. Copious amounts of therapy.**

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

_I was the one who saved you, Merlin. I fed you, tended to your wound. I helped you get to Arthur again, Merlin. I helped you get out of the castle, Merlin. It was all me. We both have magic. That makes us kin. You can't abandon your kin, Merlin._

Morgana had never really been good at telepathy before. She'd never actually had anyone to try it with before other than Mordred, and then it had always been the boy who spoke to her, with her never even taking the chance to see if she could speak back. But if she couldn't talk out loud to Merlin, this was the only option left to her. Morgana wasn't even sure if Merlin could hear her. He certainly hadn't replied, but that could just be because he was ignoring her, though in his current mood she would have at least expected him to snap at her to shut up.

She had to keep trying, though, even if it was hopeless. Merlin was going to attempt escape, of that she was certain. From her experience with him the last few days, the servant was not going to be cowed by a few measly chains and a couple of pathetic knights. Morgana just had to ensure that when he did break out that he took her with him.

She wasn't even sure why either of them was still alive right then. Back in the forest, Morgana had been positive that she was going to be killed by fire-breathing dragon and Merlin by sword-wielding knights. Yet here they were, both still whole and breathing. She wasn't so sure about unharmed in any sense. She hadn't even been questioned yet about her part in Merlin's strange behaviour, which meant they knew, or at least thought they knew, what had caused it. Part of her wondered if they had a cure.

Part of that part hoped they did.

Whatever they knew or didn't know, no one had informed her yet. Except for her brief match with Gwaine, she'd been completely ignored, even by Agravaine. That bit annoyed her the most. Of course the weasel-y little man needed to hide his true loyalties, but he could have at least come to see her under the guise of interrogating the prisoner. It's not like that small action would wave a banner that declared "I'm a spy; please hang me." But no, if he'd stayed any further away from her, he'd have been in Nemeth. Well, if he couldn't be trusted to help her when she needed it, what good was he? If- _when_ she got out of here, it seemed their relationship was to be at its end.

So with Agravaine annoyingly out of commission, Merlin was her only hope. It was a paltry hope, for certain –he'd summoned a dragon to _kill her_– but it was all she had. It confused her how her feelings towards Merlin had morphed over the time she'd spent with him. She hated him, but she didn't. She understood him, but she didn't. _"The truth resists simplicity,"_ she'd always heard. Morgana shook her head violently to clear it. It was too much to contemplate when her only thoughts should be about surviving and getting the throne. _Merlin_ wasn't certainly wasn't bothering to consider her complexly.

_Together we can be free, Merlin. We can kill them all, and we will never have to be afraid of them again…_

* * *

Merlin wished he could turn off his mind. He'd been forced to listen to her squawking ever since the effects of the poison they'd foisted on him the night before had worn off. He made sure to keep still, though, smoothing his features and relaxing his muscles as if he were still asleep. They could not suspect he had awoken until it was too late.

With his eyes closed they didn't notice the flash of gold as he unlocked his shackles. He cracked the lids to glance about and see who was in charge of guarding him now. Not that it mattered. No one would be able to stop him this time. Percival and Leon sat playing cards against the far wall. They had not a care in the world.

That would soon change.

Merlin let his chains drop noisily to the ground. Percival and Leon looked up at the sound, startled, but otherwise had no chance to react, as Merlin threw up his now free hands –_but let's face it, I was always free; now we just all know it_– and threw them backwards into the stone, knocking them unconscious. Unlike before, his magic was at full-force now. If he wanted, he could bring this castle to its knees.

The urge to do so nearly overwhelmed him before he got it under control. _Focus. You have to find her. You have to find him._

But first he made his way through the dungeons to locate the source of that annoying voice that wouldn't leave him alone all morning. He found her at the far end of the cells, sitting serenely, eyes closed, as though she weren't barraging his mind at that very moment.

"Morgana."

Her eyes snapped open. A bright smile appeared on her lips. "Merlin! I–"

"I didn't come to break you out, Morgana," he interrupted coldly.

Her face fell. "But–"

"I came to say goodbye. That's all. Although I don't know what will happen to you after this. I don't know who will be left."

The look on his face was starting to frighten her. This was not the Merlin she knew. Even with all the changes in him lately, Morgana was becoming certain, this wasn't right. Being frightened of death because of his magic? That was only logical. Trying to sic a dragon on her to kill her? That was slightly unorthodox, yes, but not unprecedented. Threatening to destroy everyone and everything in Camelot? That wasn't Merlin. No matter how much she may have wanted it to be true, that would never be Merlin. How ironic was it that it was she that was about to become _his_ conscious? "Merlin, stop and think about this for a moment. You can't–"

"I think you'll find I can. Arthur kidnapped my mother. He must pay." He turned to leave. No, Morgana had to stop him.

"It was Agravaine!" she cried after him. "Agravaine did it."

Merlin froze, though he kept his back to her. "What did you say?"

She thought quickly. _Two birds, one stone._ "Agravaine told Arthur to go get her as a means of controlling you. He's the one who has her, not Arthur. Agravaine's the one who wants you dead, not Arthur." _What am I doing? Why am I protecting Arthur like this?_ "If you want revenge on anyone, it's Agravaine."

"If you're lying to me…" his voice was low and dangerous.

"I'm not. I promise, Merlin. What reason would I have to stop you from killing the prince? I was helping you before, wasn't I?"

Without another word Merlin was gone. _Please Merlin. Please don't do this._

* * *

Merlin swept determinedly through the corridors. Agravaine had only been in Camelot for a couple of weeks, but Merlin had had to deliver messages to his room often enough he knew where it was. He wasn't sure if the man would be there, or his mother, but it mattered little. Merlin would simply try the next room, then the next one, then next one, until he found those he was looking for. Camelot would learn not to trifle with him. He was no longer afraid of them. They would learn to fear _him_.

Merlin didn't check Agravaine's chambers first. He was hoping if he went somewhere else, like the council chambers or throne room, he might run into someone _else_ first, someone that he still wished dead more than even the pathetic lord. He had no such luck. Not even an unfortunate guard got in his way. Pity. But then, if he'd had to deal with passersby, it would slow him down, and slowing down meant he would have less time, and less time meant there was a chance, a tiny chance, he might be caught again.

He could not be caught again. There was too much at stake this time.

It was bad enough he walked like a drunken fool. That had only started after they had tortured him the first time he'd been imprisoned. When they'd tried to steal his magic. He'd felt it being ripped out of him, like birds of prey were tearing into his flesh. Then it had come slamming back, but something had stayed missing. It was just one more thing grievance to add to the list for atonement.

Merlin did not bother to open the door to Agravaine's chambers. Instead he simply blasted it out of the way. A terrified yelp told him his quarry was indeed home to roost. Merlin stepped inside, ignoring the wreckage. Agravaine stood in front of his mirror, probably having just gotten done slicking down that greasy hair of his. Merlin raised one hand and gripped it tightly in a fist, cutting off the oily man's air.

"_Where is she?_"

"I-I-I do- don… know…" Agravaine choked out, terror in his eyes. Merlin released his throat and used his magic to slam the man into the wall, dazing him.

He stood over the lord, eyes flashing darkly, not with magic, but with hatred. Merlin noted the ornamental dagger tied to the man's waist and slid it from the sheath, pointing it at his heart. He lifted his other hand threateningly, though he had no intention of simply keeping it a threat, no matter what answer he received. "_Where is my mother?_"

"I-I swear… I don't have her," Agravaine stammered, his gaze fixed on Merlin's hand rather than the knife, clearly seeing his magic as the bigger threat. _As he should_. "A-Arthur brought her back last night, but t-they didn't want to bring her down w-while you w-were sleeping. They wanted to- wanted to w-wait until you w-were awake."

"Not good enough." Merlin pressed the dagger closer, poking it through the lord's clothing into the flesh just above his heart, causing the man to flinch, his breathing growing more rapid as blood blossomed on his chest. "_Where is she now?_"

"I t-told you. I d-don't know. A-Arthur w-wanted to wait until you were better. H-he d-didn't want you to h-hurt her."

"I would _never_ hurt my mother," Merlin snapped harshly, twisting the dagger in place. "_You_ are the only monsters around here who would do such a thing."

"No, I swear!" Agravaine yelped in pain. "I h-haven't done a-anything to her! In fact, I w-want to h-help you! I-I know what h-happened to you. I-I can make you better!"

Better? There wasn't anything wrong with him to make _better_. And that was their mistake in the first place, these low-life mongrels. Thinking because he had magic he was less than them, that he needed to be _fixed_.

"Over there, in that- that chest. T-there's a pouch. T-that's what they used. A-all you have to do is t-take some of it and you'll b-be b-better. I swear!"

Merlin eyed him narrowly. This was a trick. It had to be trick, meant to get him to turn his back so he could kill him or at least run away like a filthy coward. But there was a way to find out, and at no cost to him. Swiftly he pulled the dagger out of Agravaine's chest. The lord whined in relief, tense muscles relaxing slightly. Not for long, however, as a blink later Merlin jabbed the knife into his forearm, pining it into the floor.

Agravaine screamed in anguish. Involuntarily his arm tried to jerk away, causing the dagger to rip further into the flesh. Terror seized up the rest of his functions, so that Merlin was already digging through the aforementioned trunk before he even thought to try to pull the knife out. The agony of the action caused him to scream again as his fingers slipped in his own blood.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Merlin advised softly, not even turning to look as he tossed cloaks and blankets aside. With a tiny flick of his hand, the metal of the knife began to heat up, and Agravaine's screams turned to shrieks. "You should be thanking me. If that cauterizes it, you might not lose the arm." He found the pouch and looked inside it briefly, then noticed what lay underneath it. "Of course, I don't think the afterlife honestly cares how many limbs you bring into it."

Merlin whirled around from the chest, bringing over the discovered items with him. "What _they_ used, is it? Then why do _you_ have _these_?" He held up the manacles. Agravaine was in too much pain to answer, his eyes begging Merlin to remove the dagger and relief his suffering. "I don't think you quite understand yet the consequences of what you have done, _my lord_. Perhaps I can help you."

With calculated precision Merlin fastened the manacles, first around his uninjured wrist, then around the pinned one, ignoring the blood that flowed thickly from the wound, pooling onto the floor, or how the movement pitched the shrieks even higher. Unlike when Merlin had worn the shackles, Agravaine's lack of magic meant he did not begin to convulse or writhe in unbearable agony. Not that he wasn't in unbearable agony already. It was clear that he was within a breath of passing out. That would not do. Merlin wanted him to feel it _all._

"**Ahatian**!" The blade glowed even hotter, searing the wound shut so that the flow of blood slowed considerably. Agravaine's eyes rolled back in his head, but he remained conscious. Merlin smirked. "That's better, isn't it? Now, tell me. What is this powder?" Agravaine wheezed, opening and closing his mouth a few times, clearly trying to form words, but failing. Merlin raised his hand, eyes beginning to glow dangerously again and growled, "_Tell me!_"

"Merlin!"

He heard the startled voice in the doorway, but did not turn to face it. "I don't need a dagger to make you bleed," he murmured venomously.

"Merlin, step away. Your mother's safe; she's waiting to see you. Just back away, and we'll go see her, okay, mate?" Gwaine spoke calmly and softly, and Merlin could hear his voice getting louder, signalling that he was trying to approach. Merlin whipped his other hand up to the side as a warning. "It's alright, mate, we're not going to hurt you." A slight tremor had appeared in Gwaine's voice at the movement. "Do you… do you want to see Hunith, Merlin? We can take you to her. Morgana said you were worried about her."

It was the exact wrong thing to say.

Merlin slammed his hand out, sending Gwaine and whoever was with him into a wall. "I want to know," he said slowly looking back and forth between Agravaine, Gwaine, and Lancelot, "what you did to me. Then I want to know what you did to her. And then perhaps, if you happen to still be alive, I want to know why Morgana is being so _helpful_ lately."

* * *

Hunith had always been a patient woman. When Balinor had to run and told her it was unlikely he would ever be able to return, she promised to wait for him anyway, until her final breath. When her son was born with forbidden magic, she kept him safe against the day that he might be able to walk proud and free. When she arrived in Camelot alongside Prince Arthur and was told her poisoned son had just been put into a drugged sleep and would not be awake until morning, she agreed to put off going to see him until dawn. But she could be patient no more. The prince and Gaius had informed her exactly what had happened to her son these past few days. He needed her. She was not going to keep him waiting any longer.

Of course, none of the men wanted her to go down to the dungeons. It wasn't safe, they said. Merlin couldn't tell the difference between friend and foe, they said. Well, she was neither friend nor foe. She was his mother. That bond transcended the effects of any poison.

She tried to be less aggravated over their hedging when they protested against Prince Arthur coming as well. Finally when an exasperated prince shouted, "Oh, for heaven's sake, it's not like you've equipped him with an axe down there, have you?" both of them were given the go ahead to visit the dungeons, along with a large escort.

Where they found two dazed knights and no Merlin.

"What happened?"

The knights exchanged nervous looks. "We don't know, exactly. He got loose. We don't know where he went."

"Check to see Morgana's still in her cell," Arthur ordered. Two of the knights broke off to run and do as they were told. "How did he get out? I thought you had him locked up?"

"We did," Leon assured him, leaning heavily against the wall. "Gaius said… well, he said today would be the worst."

"It must be an effect of the poison, right, Gaius?" Percival inquired sleepily from the floor.

"Um, right," Gaius agreed, looking concernedly at Hunith, who gulped. _What have you done now, Merlin?_

"Agravaine!" came the panicked shout. "He's gone after Agravaine!" The two knights came sprinting back into view. "Morgana says he thinks your uncle kidnapped his mother, and now he's gone to kill him."

"We need to find him then, quickly. Everyone split up. Search Agravaine's chambers, the council chambers, everywhere."

"Sire, you should stay here–" Gaius began.

"Like he– I mean, not a chance," Arthur amended with a brief glance at Hunith. "He's already tried to kill me three times. I doubt forth time's the charm." He ran off after his knights.

"So, I guess it's just you and me then."

Hunith smiled sadly. "Sorry, Gaius. He's my son." She took off up the stairs, though she hadn't a clue where she was heading.

At least, she hadn't a clue until the screaming started. _Merlin! _Blind panic sent Hunith hurtling as quickly as her old knees would take her down the corridors of the palace. A wrong turn sent her further away from the sound, dimming it slightly. Although it was wonderful not to hear that dreadful noise any longer, she cursed her misdirection in such a way that would have had her son flabbergasted. She had to get to him, _now_.

A strangled cry told her she was close. _I'm coming, Merlin. Hold on._ There, there, his voice. Oh, but that wasn't the voice of her little boy she was hearing. This voice was so cold, so hard. Like all hope and light was gone.

Hunith rounded the last corner and finally came face to face with a scene from her most secret nightmares. Merlin stood over a crumpled body, knife dripping with blood in his hand. His eyes were sparking gold as he glowered stonily down at his victim. His entire body was shaking, and it looked like his legs might give out at any second from underneath him.

Hunith had to admit she was trembling as well. No explanation she had received came close to the reality of what had befallen her son. She had worked so hard to raise him into the kind-hearted person he was. That there was ever a chance he could have become _this_…

Steadying herself, she began to move forward into the room. Gwaine and Lancelot spotted her and shook their heads quickly, trying to pull her off without drawing Merlin's attention from Agravaine. Hunith ignored them. Gently she reached out a hand as she walked. They could see it shaking slightly as she grew closer to her son. "Merlin," she called softly, "Merlin, sweetheart, it's me."

Merlin startled, whipping his head around, and the two knights leapt to their feet and rushed forward, meaning to defend her, but the servant made no move to attack her. Instead he attacked them, throwing them into the wall again, though this time only with enough force to pin them there, not to cause injury.

"Merlin, let them go," Hunith said softly, creeping another step forward, not taking her eyes off her son. "They aren't going to hurt you or me."

Merlin's face flitted with indecision for the first time, and his tremors increased, causing him to nearly drop the dagger. He tightened his grip on the weapon, but a thud from behind her told Hunith he had released the knights. She heard careful footsteps as they moved to flank her.

"It's alright, my boy. Just come here. I promise; you're safe now."

Hunith was almost close enough to touch him. She paused, not sure if it was wise to do so. While she was extremely doubtful that her son would ever hurt her, if he did, even on accident, it would kill him.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught both her attention and Merlin's. The man he had been threatening had tried to drag himself away while Merlin's attention was off him. Instantly Merlin's hand was up and clenched, and the man began choking.

"Merlin, no, stop! Please, sweetheart, don't do this."

Merlin's gaze flickered between her and his victim, and the indecision grew, though he didn't relent. Then just as suddenly as he'd begun his attack, he dropped unceremoniously to the floor, knife clattering beside him. Hunith closed the distance between them and took her son in her arms, rocking him back and forth as he sobbed. One of the knights came to kick the weapon out of reach, but she shook her head when they moved to restrain Merlin. The danger was past; for good now.

That was how the others found them a few minutes later, kneeling together on the floor, the two knights standing dumbly off to the side. Lancelot had gone to the finally unconscious Agravaine, but when he went to check for a pulse, he found none. He was looking around for a sheet to cover up the bloody body when he noticed the garments strewn about the place next to an open trunk at the foot of the bed. He'd also noticed before that the missing manacles were about the dead lord's wrists. Glancing around, he spotted an open pouch lying on its side nearby, something powdery spilling out of it. Curious, he went to pick it up, then nearly dropped it again in surprise.

Arthur froze in the doorway, gaping at the scene before him. "What happened?" he asked in a strangled whisper.

Gwaine explained as best he could. None of them knew what had transpired before their arrival; however, the knife and manacles spoke for themselves. Hunith held tighter to her son as the story unfolded, waiting for one of them to mention the sorcery that had been inflicted upon them. When Lancelot revealed the end state of the prince's uncle, she clutched him so tightly her fingers turned white. They would not take him from her. She would not allow it to happen.

"Sire, there's something else, too. The poison that was used on Merlin. It's here, in abundance."

If it was possible, Arthur's jaw dropped further. "_Agravaine? Agravaine poisoned Merlin?"_

* * *

**A/N: Cutting this chapter down to a reasonable length was possibly the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It was almost twice this length to begin with. There will be one, possibly (probably) two more chapters after this, depending on how lengthy I decide to let the next one(s) be.**

**Also, if you're keeping track, why yes, that's everybody ****_but_**** Arthur who knows about Merlin now.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: You know, I used to pride myself for being a terrible person who did terrible things to her characters and rejoiced in a grim ending. I think hanging out with family for a month made me soft. This is going to be perhaps the sappiest ending I have ever written ever. I even changed the original ending, which was going to be heart-wrenching and leave you screaming at me for destroying lives. Guess I'll have to save that for another time.**

**Thank you, everyone, for your support as I've written this, whether you started following at chapter one or now at chapter twenty. It's been fun! Enjoy the penultimate chapter! The last one is written, and shall be up by evening today or perhaps early tomorrow morning, but very soon!**

* * *

Chapter Twenty

The decision on whether to take Merlin back to the dungeon was split.

Arthur, Lancelot, Leon, and Elyan were adamant he should return to his cell and remain there until the effects of the poison were completely out of his system. Gwaine, Percival, and Gaius, on the other hand, thought he might recuperate better now if he were to be allowed to go back to his room in the physician's chambers and simply be put under guard as usual, perhaps even chain him to the bed so it would at least be harder for him to flee. None of them mentioned the chilling thought that neither place might be enough to hold him if he decided to break out again. After the morning's events and revelations, it didn't seem to matter.

In the end, Arthur pulled rank and insisted they return Merlin to the dungeons for the safety of everyone. He relented, however, saying they could perhaps forego the chains this time, so long as no one went in the cell with him, and two supplemental guards were always on duty watching in case, deprived of other potential victims, he started to try to harm himself instead.

Gaius held up a vial. "This won't put him to sleep, but it should make him more tractable, at the very least, so that we can safely move him."

The knights moved forward glumly, meaning to restrain the servant once more so the potion could be dumped down his throat like the last one had, but Hunith held up a hand to stop them. "Here, let me."

"Are you sure?" Arthur hesitated. He hadn't been there when the men had drugged Merlin for the night, but he'd been there the first time, when they'd had to knock him out to put the enchanted shackles on him. "He doesn't make it easy."

"Actually, Hunith may have no difficulty getting Merlin to do as she wishes, sire," Gaius corrected hopefully. "Merlin held little of the extreme fear or aggression towards Morgana that he has shown towards us, nor has he exhibited any of it towards Hunith. It is likely that the effects of the poison on his mind were directed specifically towards the people of Camelot. Since she has no connection with us at all, his mother is actually probably the safest to be near him right now."

Arthur was still reluctant –and perhaps a bit jealous, but he would never admit _that_– but he nodded his assent, and Gaius handed over the vial. Hunith held it gingerly up to her son's lips. "Here you go, my boy. Drink this for me."

Merlin, for his part, had been completely ignoring the entire discussion. Instead he simply clung to his mother, as if unsure she was real, and safe, and there. When she didn't immediately vanish in a puff of smoke, he was thrilled just to be with her. Nothing else mattered, so long as she was unharmed. When the vial reached his mouth, he opened wide, willing to do anything she asked, just as long as she stayed with him, where he could protect her. Moments later, he could feel his mind growing fuzzy and his body numb, but she was still there, so he let it go.

"I think you can take him now," Hunith whispered as her son's body grew lax in her arms.

Gwaine and Elyan moved in to pick him up, slinging an arm each around their shoulders. Merlin struggled a bit at the intruders, but at a word from his mother he calmed. Gwaine nearly crumpled as the weight fell on his still injured leg, but he waved off Lancelot's offers of help, determined to carry on. Carefully the two knights guided Merlin from the room, Hunith close behind.

Arthur scrubbed his face with a hand. It was hard to say which issue he wanted to deal with the least right now. He knew which one he could deal with, as he had just done. Dealing with Merlin was easy. It required little thought or effort. Make sure he wasn't a danger to others. Make sure he wasn't a danger to himself. End struggle.

The other two problems on his plate… those were different. Morgana, the sorceress, who had desired and tried to dethrone and kill him and his father sat in his dungeons awaiting his judgement. Morgana, his sister, whom he had grown up with and loved, sat in his dungeons awaiting his judgement. She would have to be dealt with and punished. They couldn't _not_ punish her.

Could they?

Then there was the body of uncle. The uncle Arthur's deranged manservant had just apparently tortured and killed.

But it was beginning to seem now that Agravaine had been the one to torture Merlin first.

But when? And how? Agravaine hadn't been there during the attack. Arthur may not have noticed a lot of things, but he was sure he would have noticed _that_. And Gaius said Merlin was infected through a sword wound incurred during the battle, so it had definitely happened then… Could it be that Agravaine been the one to hire the mercenaries? But what reason would he have to do that?

Agravaine had come to him concerned about word of Merlin's behaviour. Concerned for Arthur's safety. Why would he be concerned if he had…? Then he had been only too eager to take up the search to find the culprit behind Merlin's "enchantment."

To find himself.

Arthur wanted to sit down –or rather, collapse down– hard on a nearby chair. He remained standing only because the two chairs that were nearby were flecked with blood splatters. How could this have happened? Again? So soon? What had Arthur done to make his family hate him so much?

He knew it sounded selfish, but Arthur was under no illusions. This had been done to Merlin, but it had been done to hurt Arthur. Merlin may have feared all of Camelot, but Arthur was Camelot personified. They wanted Merlin to kill _him_. Perhaps Agravaine hadn't cared who was infected so long as the goal of Arthur's death was accomplished, but the fact that it had been Merlin, his closest ally… for Arthur, just made the whole thing a hundred times worse.

_In the end, does it really matter why or how?_ Arthur wondered wearily. There wasn't much more they could do to the man for punishment. Merlin had seen to that. Gwaine and Lancelot had been succinct in their description of the events, but they had made it clear this had been no mercy killing. Arthur was slightly afraid to look at the body of his uncle, whose blood was still seeping through the blanket Lancelot had tossed over him earlier in a show of respect only the honourable Lancelot would have ever thought someone like Agravaine still deserved. One of the hands poked out a bit from under the edge as a few guards picked the body up to carry it away, and Arthur caught a glimpse of a glint of metal.

Or maybe the why did matter.

The chance that Agravaine had been working on his own in this were existent, loathe as he was to admit it, but they were extremely low, especially considering the circumstances. Which brought him back to his other problem.

And a question.

"How did Morgana know where Merlin was?"

* * *

"Because I told him where to go."

Seeing Morgana again had been just as painful as Arthur had thought it would be. He'd only caught a glimpse of her back in his chambers when her illusion had fallen and she'd whisked Merlin away. He'd tried not to think about it, knowing it would drive him mad to dwell on the matter too much, but he'd always wondered what it would be like when they met again. Other than spying on her from the balcony when she'd announced that she was Uther's daughter and therefore she would be usurping the throne, thank you very much, Arthur hadn't actually gotten to have any time face-to-face with his "new" half-sister. If spying could be considered face-to-face.

On the one hand, she didn't look any different than the Morgana he had known all his life. A little more unkempt, maybe, but the same stubborn, reckless girl he'd grown up with. He'd always known she was quick-tempered, just like he tended to be, and much more likely to speak up if that temper was sparked, since she had always been much _less_ likely to be reprimanded for it.

It didn't take much of a closer look, however, to see the resentment in her eyes. The hatred that burned in the irises. She opened her mouth first when he arrived, likely to try to open up their conversation with something derisive, the way she always had –he wondered if it was a womanly trait or just something about _her_, that she always needed not only the last word in an argument, but the first one–, but Arthur got in his question first. And to his surprise, she had actually answered it.

"You told him where to go? Why would you do that?"

"Because it's where I needed him to be."

"So you admit that you were in on the plot to poison my manservant?"

"Poison? That's what's wrong with Merlin? He's been _poisoned_?" The shock in Morgana's voice was too genuine to be an act. She looked as stunned as the rest of them had when Gaius had revealed the diagnosis. There was something else in her expression, too, but it was gone before Arthur could fathom it out.

"Yes. We found a large store of the substance in Agravaine's chambers. Gaius has confirmed it is the same poison used on Merlin to attempt to turn him against us. You really expect me to believe that you had nothing to do with it?" Although a tiny part of him was starting to. It wasn't her _reaction_ he was surprised by. It had been tough for all of them to swallow, as well. It was that it was _her_ reaction.

"I didn't. Contrary to what you think, dear _brother_, my world does not revolve around you," Morgana spat, getting over her shock in record time and returning to her old standby of petulant anger. "I have been rather busy lately mourning the death of my sister, who was killed by that same _servant_ you're so concerned about."

"But if you weren't behind it, then how did you know something was wrong with him in the first place? You swooped in to take him away awful quickly."

"Well, I couldn't leave him here, could I? Not when you lot were so bent on _torturing him,_" she sneered cruelly, causing Arthur to stiffen as he fought not to wince. "I was there when you used those chains on him. What's the matter? Lose the guts to use them again on me?"

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest, trying to convince himself it was to make himself look more intimidating, not to give himself a measure of comfort. "It seems that after they were used on… Agravaine stole them. For what purpose we do not know. We found those in his chambers as well." He didn't mention that the manacles had then been put on Agravaine by Merlin, probably in an attempt to exact revenge for their usage on him. Furious as he was at Agravaine, Arthur hoped the man had been too far gone to suffer by that point.

Morgana seemed a bit more disturbed by this news than he'd expected. "You should destroy them," she advised softly. "No one deserves that."

The reminder that Arthur's father had been the one to suggest their use on Morgana hit him like a boulder. She was here now. She was here, and they had the shackles. He could do it. But Arthur had seen what it had put Merlin through. What it still was putting him through. Could he really do that to this woman he'd once loved like a sister, who continued to hold a place in his heart despite everything, knowing now the consequences?

"They will be."

If –_when _his father recovered, the king would just have to forgive him. They would find another way.

Arthur turned to go. Morgana would be punished, one day. But not now. And not with death, nor with torture. No matter what she had done in the past few months, she didn't deserve that, and Arthur was certain that even his father would agree. Yes, he saw the apparent uncompromising anger in her features, but what was it Gaius had once told him? _"Anger is a secondary emotion. It is always preceded by another emotion such as fear or hurt._" Morgana certainly had reason to have plenty of both. Maybe her magic and Morgause's influence had twisted the girl he'd grown up with slightly beyond recognition, but perhaps she was not yet beyond redemption.

"Arthur!" she called after him. He stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. "Agravaine… Did Merlin…?"

Arthur sighed and hung his head. "Yes. Merlin killed him."

He made to leave again. Just before he turned around the corner, he heard the whisper of a sigh tinged with sadness. "Oh, Merlin."

No, perhaps not beyond redemption at all.

* * *

Hunith wrung her hands nervously as she watched the knights set Merlin down gently back in his cell and lock it tight. They hadn't said a word as they brought him down, and they weren't saying anything now.

Rather than put him down on the far side of the cell, the knights had placed Merlin right next to the bars, for which she was grateful. They raised no objections as she reached through and took her son's hand, holding it tightly. Hunith didn't look back at the knights. She couldn't.

The scruffy-haired one, Sir Gwaine, she was pretty certain he was called, had seen Merlin do magic. Had had Merlin _attack _him with magic. Hunith knew of Gwaine through Merlin's letters. He never mentioned his secret talents for fear that somewhere along the lines the messenger might be pillaged by raiders and the information would be used against him, or the messenger might get bored and read it out of curiosity and then tell the king out of fear, or _Arthur_ might get bored and read it out of curiosity and then tell the king out of duty. But Merlin talked about his friends all the time. Hunith was so happy he had friends. Merlin also talked about how _trustworthy _and_ honourable_ and other sneaky-happy phrases he thought these new friends were, particularly Sir Gwaine. It was clear what he was trying to tell her. He wanted them to know. To which she would reply in no uncertain terms that was he to keep himself _out of danger_ and _stay safe_ and everything short of coming out and writing "If you get yourself arrested for being a sorcerer I will come to Camelot and kill you myself."

But it looked like it was too late for her warnings now. When Will had found out, her plans for her son had had to change slightly. In the end, she supposed, it was always going to come down to him needing to go somewhere to be trained. But when his secret was exposed, that end had come to fruition sooner than she had thought. She liked Will very much; he had always been good to her boy. But he was a hot-head. He liked to say what was on his mind and didn't care who he was saying it to. The fear that he might accidently reveal Merlin's secret was too much for her.

That fear was repeating itself now. Merlin had once told her right out he wanted to tell Prince Arthur, too, and she had turned the suggestion down flat. She hadn't known Arthur well enough back then to know for certain if he was trustworthy, and neither, really, had Merlin. She _really_ didn't know this Gwaine fellow, nor the other knight who had been present for Merlin's… fit of temper, to have no other way of putting it. But Merlin had described Gwaine as reminding him much of Will, never tempering his words in deference for the one he addressed, no matter their station.

How ironic it would be, if, after all this, it was not Merlin's actions of numerous attempted –and apparently now one successful– murders that caused his death, but the one small secret they had worked so hard up until now to keep?

They had said nothing of it in their report to the prince regent. They were saying nothing of it now. And until they did say something, Hunith knew it did no good to dwell on what was coming. Instead she was just going to sit here, and with the time she had left him, she was going to hold her child's hand.

* * *

The days that went by after that were far different than the ones before. Merlin was still guarded by a rotation of knights, but now they did not regale him with chatter at every moment. Merlin still had his mood swings, but he no longer shouted at them of their coming demise or muttered about his. Gwen never did return, and if anyone hadn't been so preoccupied as to notice, they would have seen that she was no longer speaking even to the prince. In fact, the only one who did speak at all was Hunith, who did not leave her station at the foot of the cell in all that time, continuously whispering softly through the bars whether Merlin was glowering or laughing or crying. The only change in this routine was when she would cease when Gaius would come down, but even then, he made his rounds in silence, eyed anxiously by all present, simply shaking his head to indicate that Merlin still needed more time.

Then one day they started to notice that the mood swings had stopped. Merlin had been, for the most part, staying next to the bars where he had been put, within touching distance of his mother, the only one who came near him these days. When the knights changed posts and woke Hunith, who slept fitfully on a small cot that had been set up for her outside the cell door, in the morning, they noted that the servant was not in his customary curled up position by the bars. Instead he had curled up in the far corner of the little room.

This in itself was not entirely strange. He had done that over the past few days, pacing and mumbling to himself or startling during a swapping of the knights' watches and cowering in the back until his mother coaxed him forward again.

But always Merlin had been moving those times, rocking or walking or twitching. The twitches had calmed over time –Gaius had put forth the theory that their seeming severity had been aggravated by the stress of the poison–, but they were still present and noticeable. And they were there now, an elbow occasionally flailing out to the side, a leg jerking and making him tip a bit. But other than that he was still. The boy did not face them, nor did he stir when his mother called to him gently through the bars to see if he was awake.

Receiving no response, they decided he must be still asleep and left him alone. But as the day wore on, still Merlin did not move.

"Maybe someone should go in there," Percival suggested quietly around midday.

"Be my guest." Elyan waved an arm invitingly at the cell. "And when Arthur comes down to yell about not following orders to keep out, I'm perfectly happy to let him know it was your idea."

Both of them were well aware it wasn't Arthur's wrath they were worried about.

"Well, we can't send her in," Percival indicated Hunith with a tiny nudge of his head. "We'd definitely be in trouble then."

"But she's the only one who really can go…" Elyan trailed off. Then he raised his voice. "You know, Percival, I didn't really get that much sleep last night. Do you mind keeping watch while I grab a couple of winks?"

Percival tried not to betray a smile. "A couple of snores, more like? Sure, why not?"

Elyan began to fiddle with his belt. "If I'm going to be sitting on this hard ground, I'm going to at least try to be comfortable. Which means I don't need _these_ to be poking me every few… snores." He extracted the ring of keys he was meant to be holding on to, including the one that opened this very cell.

"Right. Well, you have fun with that. You know, I'm feeling a bit tired myself. I might just rest my eyes for a second. Sorry to be such poor company, my lady, but you know how it is, protecting the kingdom and such."

Hunith, for her part, was entirely failing to keep the smile from the corners of her lips, particular when the large knight called her "my lady." She barely waited until the men began to "snore" –entirely _too_ loudly, even for fake snoring– before she went and picked up the keys, finding the right one and opening the door to her son's cell. She still was wary around the knights, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but neither of these men had been the ones in the room during Merlin's little… display, and they had given no indication as of yet that they had heard about it. She locked the door behind her –no need to take chances, no matter how well-behaved Merlin seemed to be around her– and tossed the keys unceremoniously back to the "sleeping" knights, whose obnoxious snores nearly turned to snorting giggles as they were hit with the pieces of metal.

She approached him carefully, not wanting to startle him if he truly _was_ asleep and hadn't noticed her come in. "Merlin, sweetheart. Are you okay?" No response. She came closer, kneeling down beside him. "Merlin?"

He was not sleeping. Merlin's eyes were open, staring flatly at the wall in front of him. It was a huge change from his recent expressions, which had been varied but present and vivid. Hunith had not raised him alone for eighteen years for nothing, however. She could see that he was not entirely blank. There, in the recesses of his eye, in the corner of his mouth, there was a bit of sadness there.

"What's wrong, my boy?" Which immediately struck her as a hilarious question. There wasn't much right now that was _right_.

"Gaius said something like this might happen," Elyan piped in worriedly. He and Percival had stopped feigning sleep a few moments after Hunith returned the keys and now were pressed up against the bars, watching anxiously. "He said if Merlin had too much of the poison, his… his emotions would be damaged."

"But I thought that wasn't supposed to happen if we got him to stop taking it," Percival added, frowning. He hadn't actually been present for the full explanation, but his fellow knights had filled him in. Perhaps they had related something incorrectly?

"You should go get Gaius," Elyan suggested. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on him. You know, in case this is some kind of bluff."

Percival raised an eyebrow as if questioning the ability of the smaller man to take on a rampaging servant all on his own, but he went, casting uneasy glances behind him. Elyan stayed where he was at the bars, watching as Hunith tried to take Merlin's hands in her own, attempting to coax him from himself.

He almost didn't hear when Merlin finally did speak out loud, in a heartbreakingly soft whisper.

"They're going to kill me."


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Things were a bit too happy in that last chapter, so I had to throw in a bit more angst for the almost final one. Sorry about the cliffhanger. Come on, who doesn't love a cliffhanger?**

**By the way, did I say this was the last chapter? I lied. Sorry. I tend to do that. I couldn't get all my loose ends tied up properly with just one more chapter. And this scene here seemed to literally write itself and never stop. At two in the morning. On my mobile, so I apologize if you see "aosidjf" somewhere in the middle.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One

It took him three days to stop automatically fuming every time someone other than his mother came near him. It took four days to keep himself from flinching at every sound that wasn't his mother's voice. It wasn't that the urges weren't still there, he was simply finding himself better able to control them, to tamp them down.

But it was on the fifth day that he was able to stop altogether. Because it was on the fifth day he remembered. It was on the fifth day he understood.

Merlin woke early that morning. There was his mother, safe and sound beside him. There were Leon and Lancelot, drowsing against the wall, clearly having kept themselves up all night. They were all there to watch him. To keep an eye on him in case he… To stop him from…

Merlin retreated quietly to the back of his cell, not wanting to wake any of them, not wanting them to know he was awake. If they were up, and they knew he was up, they would start to talk to him again. He didn't deserve that. Besides, it was still early, from the tiny view he had out the barred window, dawn was barely just breaking. He wanted to let them sleep for a while longer. They deserved that.

_What had he done?_

The problem was, Merlin knew exactly what he had done. It was like he'd been asleep for days and yet his body had kept going, and now his brain was recapping all the fun little outings his appendages had had. He could see it all clearly now in his mind's eye. He remembered what they had done, too, but it paled in significance to his own crimes. There would be no second chance this time. There would be no chance for repentance, no forgiveness. There would be no story on this earth that Merlin could come up with that would explain his actions well enough to earn him a pardon.

And he didn't want one.

Each scene kept replaying itself in his mind's eye. He had slashed Lancelot, stabbed Gwaine, stabbed Arthur, suffocated Agravaine, _attacked Arthur…_ over and over and over. And he had wanted to do it.

He remembered that too.

Merlin remembered how he had felt. The fear that had not been paralyzing but exhilarating. His flight and fight responses had been kicked into overdrive, each one struggling valiantly for dominance. He'd wanted to get away from the threat, but oh, he wanted to eliminate it, too. And the threat had been his dearest friends.

His former dearest friends.

They would turn their backs on him now. Merlin couldn't even blame them. He was dangerous, and he had proved that. Proved it again and again. He didn't deserve their friendship, didn't deserve their loyalty, didn't deserve any of it.

And not only had he done all that, but now they _knew_. Though some things may have been slightly hazy –which was preferable to many of the things he could see crystal clear–, that was one fact he had been sure of. One fact he himself had made sure of. Oh, Morgana had thrown the gauntlet and made them doubt, but Merlin had put the nail in his own coffin and confirmed it.

If they didn't kill him, he would have to leave. And he couldn't even go home. His mother had not been there for the beginning of his downward spiral, but she had to have been told of it. They wouldn't have kept such important knowledge from her. And she _had_ been there towards the end. She had seen him when he… She had seen him become what she had worked so hard to prevent him from ever being. So he could not go home. And he could not stay here.

Merlin was all out of miracles. Out of miracles and out of options. And there was no one who could help him because everyone he cared about was either dead or hated him too much to speak to him.

Well, maybe not everyone.

* * *

**"Hello, Merlin."**

He'd expected more than that. Or less. Something different, at least, from the quiet, patient tone she used, tinged with a good bit of surprise. Something more scathing would have been appropriate. This, this was just odd. And hadn't that been the purpose of choosing her to talk to in the first place? She would sneer at him and snap and mock and torment, and he would have his just desserts from someone from whom he had expected no less, instead of someone from whom it would rip his heart out.

Even if he knew he ought to have his heart not only ripped out but stamped on the ground a couple times for good measure. He just wasn't sure he was prepared for that yet. Hence Morgana. She was supposed to be like a trial run. A warm-up, so to speak. To help him get all the kinks out before the big tournament.

But beggars could not afford to be choosers. And Merlin was on his last begging legs if this was what he had been reduced to, so he supposed he would just have to take this strange new attitude and swallow it.

**"I did a bad thing."** He at least didn't need to tell her what the bad thing was. Or bad _things_, rather. She had been there. Heck, she had _helped_ for some of it.

**"Yes, you did, Merlin."**

Good, she wasn't denying it. Maybe _this_ was actually why he'd wanted to talk to her. There was still a chance, the tiniest, infinitesimal chance, that one of the others might take pity on him in respect of their once-held-dear friendship and might try to let him off for one or more of the things he had done. Morgana would never give him that luxury.

**"I..."** He was very glad that this conversation was literally just between the two of them. He sounded very small and pathetic right now. More like a child than some powerful warlock**. "I didn't mean to."**

Yes he had. He had meant all of it. That was what hurt the most. He knew for sure now that that part of him that meant it was there, that it had the potential to be unleashed. It didn't even apparently require his consent. He would just black out for a few days and only remember later what had happened. Who was to say this was a one-time thing? Merlin hadn't actually succeeded in killing the vast majority of those he had set out to, but who was to say next time he'd be so incompetent? His low body count could probably be attributed to the fact that he hadn't used his magic to aid his attacks until just there at the end, but what if next time he simply decided to turn the citadel and everyone in it to dust right from the start? Who was to say that wouldn't happen? Up until now Merlin had lauded himself as Camelot's greatest protector. But what if that wasn't true?

What if he was Camelot's greatest downfall?

At least now he'd get to hear that, to have it confirmed that he was the lowest of the low, a danger to everyone he cared about, not worthy to walk in their presence any longer. Good old Morgana. Always dependable for destruction.

**"I know you didn't, Merlin."**

If Merlin had had had all of his energy tied up in maintaining this ridiculous excuse for a conversation, his head would have snapped up. Which, of course, might have looked a little silly to any outside observers -which he was dimly aware he still had- who would have no idea what had caused him to fall into such shock. Clearly someone had forgotten to give Morgana her script for this encounter. This was not the way this was supposed to go. This was not what Merlin had signed up for. If he wanted someone to tell him it was alright and he was still the same special snowflake he'd always been he would have gone to his mother for help.

Maybe she, too, was having an identity crisis. It could be like the flu. He had caught it and given it to her and now she was doomed to be sympathetic until her body built up enough resistance to fight back. In which case he shouldn't have long to wait until she was back to normal. Fighting back and resistance were two things Morgana had in spades.

**"But I did it. I can't take it back."** He continued, trying not to sound too grumpy. No matter how poorly it was going, he didn't want her to get annoyed with him and leave. But really, he should _not_ have to play her side of this debate!

**"No one is asking you to take it back, Merlin,"** she replied, still in that odd voice. **"You're right, it happened. No one can deny that. But no one blames you for it either."  
**  
**"No one ****_blames_**** me?"** He cried incredulously**. "I ****_maimed_**** several of the knights of Camelot. I threw the court physician into a ****_stone wall_****. I tried to ****_kill the prince_****. I ****_did_**** kill the prince's****_ uncle _****and ****_only _****remaining family member from his mother's side. And you think no one is going to ****_blame_**** me?"**

There was something rather like a sigh that flowed between their link. Not an exasperated sigh, nor even a sad sigh. More of a resigned one. **"Merlin, you underestimate how much they care for you. How much they want to forgive you."**

His next question was in such small voice that if he had used it on anyone else he would have been embarrassed. **"But what if****_ I_**** don't want to forgive me?"**

**"Then... then you move on. You walk away and work at it every single day until you become the type of person you do want to forgive. The type of person who deserves to be forgiven. It may take a long time, maybe forever, but it will happen, one day, I think. I hope."  
**  
Walk away. She made it sound so simple. Just leave. How could he just leave? Sure, he'd made that leap for himself before now that he would have to go, there was really no other choice, but in his mind he'd been fleeing to safety from persecution. What Morgana was suggesting sounded much the same, except the persecutor would be coming with him.

**"Why are you helping me, Morgana? Why ****_did_**** you help me?"** Unlike before, there was no malice now in his question. All masks were off. He honestly wanted to know. It was time for her to tell the truth.

It was time for him to accept it.

**"I told you, Merlin. You needed me. You were lost and hurt and afraid, and I was the only one who could do anything constructive about it. So I did."**

"But

**_why_****?"**

It just didn't fit. This wasn't the Morgana of the past year, who threatened and backstabbed and left him for dead. He could understand that Morgana, no matter how much he hated her. This he could not fathom out.

Yet despite his desperate need to _know_, Merlin fully expected to receive no response to his query. When, much to his surprise, he did get it, the answer was so soft he would have missed it if they were not the only two making any sound. "Because you _did_ help me, Merlin. Even when I was too stubborn to see it or accept it. You were always there to the very end. Even when I proved to you that I didn't deserve it. No matter what I did to you, you always took the chance to save me from myself. I guess the fates decided it was simply my turn."

Now something occurred to him that he really didn't want to ask. **"But you didn't always help me, did you? When I... came to you. When I thought my mother was in danger. You told me Agravaine had her. You knew that wasn't true, didn't you?"  
**  
He really didn't expect a response to that, and this time he was not disappointed.

**"But you sent me to him anyway. You knew what was going to happen if no one came in time to stop me. You could have stopped me from going there. You could have..."** Oh rats. He was going to start crying, and crying was just not conducive to either holding or hiding a secret conversation, especially when the outside world had started to decide they'd had enough of his secret conversation and would like him to start talking to them, please. **"I killed him, Morgana."**

It was the one thing he could not reconcile himself to. This was not the first time he had killed. Far from it. In fact Merlin just happened to be having a lovely chat with one of his many victims. But always before there had been a reason. A save Arthur and Camelot kind of good, reliable reason. There had been no reason behind this. It had no justification, no meaning. Agravaine had never done a thing wrong to him. Merlin barely even knew the man.

But at least he could place some of the blame in this matter on Morgana. There, she was finally being useful for something in this whole absurdly unsatisfying thing, and there was no way she could get out of it this time.

**"You were so afraid, Merlin. At the beginning you were so afraid. And I thought I understood. I knew what it was to fear the hand of Camelot. So I took you to Arthur. I let you have your chance. But then things changed, Merlin. ****_You_**** were changing, so fast. And suddenly I knew I was wrong. I didn't understand at all. But I did understand one thing very clearly.**

"The day I told you to go to Agravaine, I didn't know what he'd done to you. I swear to you, I truly didn't. I only knew what I felt about him. But you hadn't come to me with an intent to find him when you left. You still wanted to find Arthur. Still wanted to kill him. Only this time, Merlin, this time I knew you'd succeed. But I also knew now what would happen if you did. It would have destroyed you, Merlin. Even if you never recovered from the effects of what was wrong with you, you would have felt the effects of your actions for the rest of your life. And I... I wasn't willing to risk that for you."

He was already so deep in self-pity he was drowning. But now it was like someone had decided to pass him reed through which he could breathe. Only the reed was closed at the top. And on fire.

Morgana had saved him from making a decision that would have haunted him for the rest of his days. Morgana. But in doing so, she'd known he'd have to make a sacrifice somewhere, and she chosen a target that suited her needs if indeed he succeeded. That sounded more like the Morgana he knew.

And her actions came with a price beyond that. He'd been so determined that he'd used his magic to ensure the job was done. His secret was out. She hadn't even had to complete her threat to say anything to Arthur, but she'd made the truth known to him anyway. And in the worst way possible.

**"They're going to kill me."**

He could almost hear her rolling her eyes, and it made him smile just the slightest bit inside. **"No, Merlin, they're not. I thought the whole point behind this little chat was that you were getting better. But if you're just going to start mumbling nonsense again, I'll just go."**

**"Right, because you have so many other things you could be doing with your time,"** he snapped back petulantly, and this time he was sure she was grinning at him from her cell.

**"I do, actually. This place needs some serious redecorating, don't you think so? A splash of colour, perhaps a potted plant in the corner? If you're nice to me, I might convince Arthur to toss you a set of curtains."  
**  
Her light-hearted banter had been a nice distraction, but the mention of the prince deflated him again quickly. **"They know about me now, Morgana. It's true; they will kill me, and you know it. They have no choice."  
**  
**"They do have a choice, Merlin. They always have a choice. Just like you do. Now, you can keep sitting there snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself or you can take charge of your own destiny for once. Maybe then you'll realize that the only person around here who wants to kill you is you."**

* * *

Arthur just _happened_ to be near the physician's chambers when Percival came charging up to tell Gaius there was something wrong with Merlin. He certainly hadn't been on his way there, or intending to skulk outside the door or anything. No, he was far too mature for that. It just so happened that he was on his way to do something else entirely, and the physician's quarters were on the way.

But he would not deny –nor could he with so many witnesses about –that the moment he had heard of trouble in the dungeons with a certain manservant, the prince had nearly sprinted down to the cells without waiting to hear an explanation. He expected it to be that Merlin had tried to hurt himself. Or perhaps he had managed to reach through the bars when someone came near and punched them or smashed their head into the metal or _something_. He was certainly surprised when he arrived to just find him sitting there, doing nothing. Though not as surprised as he was by who was just sitting there next to him.

He rounded on Elyan for an explanation, but stopped when he saw the worried look on the man's face. Perhaps just this once he would let the transgression go, though he would certainly be demanding to know just what had been going on down here when he had two seconds to think properly. Gaius arrived, hardly waiting for the door to be opened before he stepped inside. He leaned down beside the pair, taking in Hunith's troubled look and Merlin's haunted one. It took one more whisper escaped from nearly unmoving lips for him to relax, if only slightly.

"Don't worry, he's not slipped into further damage. I think…" Gaius paused to decide how best to phrase his suspicions so the consequences would not fall back too heavily on his ward. "I think Morgana is talking to him."

Arthur immediately took off, heading for that farthest cell, the one he had visited no more than Merlin's in the past five days. He tried not to think of _those_ actions too closely at the moment, wanting to keep his anger guiltpang-free. He found her sitting on the floor, a look of complete concentration on her face. "What are you doing to him?"

"I'm not doing anything to him," she whispered back calmly, glancing around Arthur as if afraid to be overheard.

"He's not responding to anyone, and Gaius says it's your fault. That you're _talking _to him. Somehow."

"I am. And now, if you'd leave me to it, dear brother, I need to get back to convincing him he's still worth giving himself a second chance."

* * *

**"Merlin, do you know what happened to you?"**

**"No."** He thought someone may have tried to explain it to him once, but if they had, it was one scene his mind was conveniently leaving him in the dark on.

**"You were poisoned. By Agravaine. It was the poison that made you do all the things you did."**

The shock of the revelation left him silent. She was lying; she had to be. Why would Agravaine poison him? It made no sense. But if it was true, that meant that his death had not been entirely without meaning. Agravaine had wanted to hurt Merlin, and by proxy to hurt Arthur. Once again, Merlin had killed for the greater good of the Once and Future King.

**"None of it was you, Merlin. It was all him. Him and… his desire to be the one with the power for once." Her voice grew even softer. "That desire… it can make a person do things beyond what they would ever dream. But it doesn't mean their victims deserved it.**

**"The knights understand that. Gaius understands that. Even Arthur understands that. And when you're better –fully, completely better– I hope that you'll come to understand that, too."**

Merlin wasn't sure if they were talking about him or Agravaine or her right then. To be honest, he wasn't sure how much of anything they'd talked about had been about him. All he knew was that she was right.

That was a laugh. Morgana, _right_.

This conversation hadn't been a thing what he'd expected, nor even what he'd wanted. But it was what he'd needed, and he had her to thank for that.

**"So what are they going to do to you?"**

That was a shrug, he thought. **"I don't know. Arthur hasn't told me yet. But I think… I think in the end we're going to live. Things won't quite be the same, but we'll make it. All of us."**

_"You've changed us all… We need you to change us still."_

Not the same was alright, he supposed.

**"Now, you ought to start talking to them again. They seem to be under the impression that I am forming some kind of mental attack on you. For the sake of my continued existence, I'd rather you dispel that rumour sooner rather than later."**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: This isn't an actual author's note. This is an author's friend's note. Agathe is still in isolation, but she was so excited when I told her about the new HP movie that she wanted to do something special, but since she isn't actually allowed to do anything, updating this is the best she could think of. I have no idea what I'm doing, having never used the site, but hopefully this will all work out. News about what's going on with her and her other stories can be found on her profile.**

**Also, she realized this morning that she forgot to include Dreams of Flame in the schedule, but I have no idea how to change that on her profile, so that will be Sundays since this is the last chapter of this story.**

**Lastly she wanted me to say thanks to everyone who read this and especially to those who left reviews! She hopes you'll all stick around and read her other stories. Having read a few chapters of some of them that aren't up here yet, personally, from a completely non-biased view-point, I think they're pretty awesome!**

**-Naia**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two

When he had first finished his conversation with Morgana, he'd emerged from his mind to find not only his mother kneeling worriedly beside him, but Gaius as well, along with several of the knights watching nervously from outside the cell. Morgana had told him that he should talk to them, but Merlin had had enough talking for the moment. So when he was asked over and over what was wrong and if he was okay, he merely shrugged and nodded and stayed retreated in his corner until they all left, only his mother and the two posted guards remaining behind. He could hear murmured conversation between the others not far away, but since it wasn't directed at him, Merlin couldn't bring himself to care.

This was going to be hard. Talking to Morgana had, surprisingly, made him feel better, but no matter what Morgana said about it not being his fault, he was still the one who had to now deal with the fallout. And he wanted to start as small as possible.

Merlin felt like his world was suddenly made up entirely of apologies.

First was Hunith.

Just as he'd hoped, that one was the easiest for Merlin to make it through. He waited until most of the crowd had retreated and they were back to only two knights standing guard. Merlin finally made his first purposeful move of human contact since before he'd been poisoned, turning and meeting his mother's eyes, twitching them pleadingly towards Elyan and Percival. Hunith wasn't his mother for nothing. She got his message immediately, going over to the bars and quietly asking the knights to step away so they might have some privacy.

The instant they were out of sight, Merlin felt the dam break. It was a moment mostly comprised of him sobbing into her shirt and her telling him it was okay. Of all of them to come, she was the only one he didn't feel he had to actually say the word "sorry" to. He was glad she was there, and he knew she was glad she had come. If Merlin had said he was sorry, he was certain he would have received a smack on the back of the head, no matter what his condition.

After that, though, things got progressively more difficult. With everyone else, words and coherent sentences and conversation had to happen.

It took him until midday to work up the nerve to talk to Elyan and Percival after they returned to their posts. If they'd heard him when they had stepped aside, they gave no sign. Merlin remembered how he'd been acting previously and sighed. He supposed they were used to him breaking down by now. The only difference was this time he was in control of it. They were, however, definitely doing their best _not_ to seem like they were staring into the cell trying to figure out what was going on. Sadly, their best was not so great.

When Merlin finally did scooch over to the bars at his mother's prompting –"They'll be changing soon, my boy. Best to talk to them while you still can"– it took him clearing his throat several times before they would look up. When they did, their eyes widened with shock that he was actually willingly initiating an interaction with them, or well, with anyone for that matter. An interaction that started with a tentative "Hey" and a few clumsy muttered "sorry's" all around –though Merlin had had no idea until now that either of them had anything to be sorry _for _(he wasn't at all surprised to find out Elyan had indeed doubted him at first until he found out about the poison). He blushed to hear about Gwen's staunch defence of him from the very beginning and her insistence to come visit even when the others tried to keep her away. By the end he found he actually did feel the slightest bit better.

Merlin was reasonably sure this was bolstered by the fact he was able to maintain a strong enough hold on his emotions that he didn't burst into tears again. He wasn't sure he would be able to make it through any conversation with them ever again if he did that now that he was in control of himself again.

They were interrupted by the appearance of Lancelot and Gwaine. Merlin automatically shrank back into the shadows of his cell once more. To his surprise, his mother let him, the proud relieve smile replaced by veiled worry, her hand reaching out to clutch his in a death grip. Merlin wasn't sure what she was nervous about. He hadn't told her yet that they knew. And it couldn't just be that they were knights, after all, he'd been perfectly find around Percival and Elyan…

But she had a right to be worried. Gwaine knew now; he had admitted as much when he was arguing with Morgana. Lancelot had always known, and both had promised not to tell… but Merlin had done an awful lot with his magic since then. They might not _want_ to keep his secret any more, no matter what Morgana said. _What does she know? She wants me dead anyway, doesn't she? She was just trying to lull me into a false sense of security. I should have told my mother. I should have prepared her, told her to run. They'll kill her for protecting me. I should have saved her. I_–"

"What are you doing?"

Merlin blinked, as stupefied as the rest of them as Gwaine cheerily locked himself in the cell opposite Merlin's, handing the key out to Lancelot, who took it with a small grin. "Well, you see, I was just telling Princess that if he planned to execute Merlin here for trying to off him that I would just have to finish the job for him and that I am a much better assassin –no offense, Merlin –so it would actually get done and in as painful a way as possible. Unfortunately, some stuffy ol' lords happened to be walking by, so the princess decided he had to punish me. Since it was time for me and Lance to switch off anyway, I decided to go quietly."

"And by quietly he means continuing to yell oaths to avenge you down the corridors as I dragged him away before the guards got involved." Lancelot shook his head, though he looked more proud than exasperated.

By now the grip Hunith had on his hand was becoming painful. Merlin gave it a squeeze to remind her that he had blood pathways and nerve endings attached there, and she smiled apologetically and loosened it a bit, though she still held tight.

Percival and Elyan laughed good-heartedly at Gwaine's antics and bid Merlin farewell as they got to their feet, promising to send Gaius down soon. Elyan swore he'd find a way to smuggle Gwen in before she murdered him in his sleep, earning him a grateful smile.

Merlin noticed no one mentioned when Arthur would be to see him.

He also noticed no one mentioned when he might be released.

"So, Merlin, does this mean you're talking to us again?" Of course, Merlin most certainly wasn't, not to them anyway. They _knew_. "You know, you gave Princess a fright this morning when you went all quiet. Almost gave him a grey hair. Not good for his pretty looks. We'd gotten used to you yelling at us all the time…" At Merlin's continued silence Gwaine grew more serious. "You know, whatever that witch told you, mate, it's not true; I swear." Gwaine had found he rather liked the dragon's term for Morgana.

Merlin's breath hitched slightly, but he quickly forced it even again. He whispered back, "She said… she said it wasn't my fault… That no one blamed me." He finally looked up at the two men who gaped back at him, stunned. "Was that a lie?"

"N-no, of course not, Merlin. We only ever wanted to help you." Merlin noted that Lancelot wouldn't quite look at him when he said that.

"You didn't exactly make it easy, though, mate. Arthur thinks you're useless in a fight, but, man, are you good with a knife!"

Merlin shrank back again at the reminder, images of himself stabbing Arthur flashing over and over again before his eyes. "Exactly how many people did I…?"

"You don't know?"

"I don't… I don't really remember it all."

"Well, you got Princess a good shank in the shoulder to begin with. He still needs a sling for it, but he doesn't like to wear it, the idiot. Lancelot here got a slash across the chest –really, you should have tried a bit harder; he doesn't even get off duty for that one –and I've got a stab wound in the leg –I _do _get off patrols; thanks for that. Plus we all got thrown around a bit, even Gaius –don't worry; he's fine –and… um…"

"And Lord Agravaine is dead," Merlin finished for him when Gwaine trailed off uncomfortably. "I'm sorry I hurt you both –and don't tell me it's okay because I didn't mean to. It's not okay."

"But it will be, Merlin," his mother promised softly. "It will be okay again."

He gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand before pulling his from her grip. He had to start getting used to standing on his own again.

"Merlin…" Lancelot shifted nervously on his feet. "I need to apologize for something, too. When you… when we first caught you, I was afraid that you might try to escape again. That you might… _hurt_ someone. I should have found another way, I know. It was before I realized you weren't going to accidently… give yourself away."

Merlin felt his mother tense next to him, but his own mind was relaxing faster than it had in days. "Thank you, Lancelot."

"I know I can never –Wait, what?"

"Thank you for drugging me. No, I didn't appreciate you doing it at the time, and I probably wouldn't ask you to do it again, but you saved me from potentially killing myself where I failed with everyone else. I just hope your efforts weren't completely in vain."

"I told you, mate. I'm going to kill Arthur if he tries to execute you for this–"

"I used magic to kill Agravaine, Gwaine. He won't have a choice."

Lancelot came as close as the bars would let him. "Arthur wasn't there, Merlin. It was only the two of us and Hunith. Your secret is still safe." He cast an indecipherable glance back at Gwaine.

"Look, mate. Do you usually walk around trying to kill us and the princess with your magical glowy eyes?"

"No, but–"

"Then your secret is my secret. That's what we do here on the friendship ship."

"The what?"

Lancelot rubbed his face with a hand, rolling his eyes. "Don't ask. Please, don't ask."

* * *

"Elyan tells me Merlin talked to him today."

Arthur grunted an acknowledgment. Gaius had told him the same, declaring he was well on his way to recovery and was no longer a security risk. Arthur had told the physician to release him that evening and let him eat back in his own quarters.

"I was just going to go see him when I was done with collecting the day's laundry. Elyan said Merlin wanted to see me."

Arthur nodded his head agreeably, continuing to play absentmindedly with the swords in the armoury as he had been when Guinevere had first cornered him.

"When are you going to see him?"

"What makes you think I haven't?" he asked cagily.

"Because if you had you'd still be there dancing around an apology to each other!" Guinevere crossed her arms and glared at him. "Honestly, if I have to explain to one more of you about how Merlin is your friend and would do anything for any of you and how this whole thing is probably tearing him up inside, I'm going to take him away until you lot learn how to play nice! Now get down there and call him an idiot and let him call you a clotpole and let that be the end of it!"

Arthur blinked, too startled for a moment by the vehemence in her tone to even respond. It seemed Guinevere didn't expect any other kind of reaction from him, because without waiting another beat she swept pointedly from the room.

No, Arthur hadn't gone to see Merlin that day. In fact, other than this morning's mad dash to find out if Merlin had lost his mind, he hadn't gone to see him since… _that day._ Not only because it was argued that it was much too dangerous for him –though no one really expected a repeat after that, and Merlin's temperament had cooled off significantly following the events –but because he just couldn't bring himself to do it. That wasn't _Merlin_ down in his dungeons. And unlike when he thought he was enchanted or possessed or duplicated or whatnot, there wasn't anything that Arthur could do for him but _wait_.

Arthur wasn't the waiting type.

But now that the word was that Merlin truly was healed from the poison's effects, Arthur was at a loss. It wasn't Merlin's fault. Which meant he couldn't just march into Gaius's chambers and yell at him and make him muck out the stables as punishment. It wasn't even really Arthur's fault so that he had to sulk down to Gaius's chambers and grumble out an apology and maybe give him a day off from work –because the best princes were man enough to know when to apologize even to those beneath them. No, the ridiculous part in all this was that the person that both of them needed to blame was no longer around for them to blame, which left them both stumbling around trying to figure out how to heal!

_And how are you dealing with it? Running away. Look how pathetic you are, Pendragon. Even __**Morgana**__ talked to Merlin before you did. However it was that she did that._ He could almost hear Merlin droning his ear. _Come on now. Are you a king or a coward?_

Arthur drew himself up straighter, steeling his shoulders.

_Might not be a king yet, but there can only be one coward in this relationship, Merlin, and we both know that's always going to be you._

* * *

"–wanted to thank you, Gwen. I remember you coming to visit once. I think you helped me the most. You reminded me who my friends really were, even when my mind was trying to convince me otherwise."

"You do know we'll always _be_ your friends, don't you, Merlin? No matter what."

"I know. Thank you, Gwen. Really."

Arthur hovered outside the door as he listened to the two of them talk. They moved on to less serious topics, Guinevere filling him in on the servant's gossip. Arthur tried to relax. It certainly _sounded _like the Merlin he knew. When talk turned to teasing her about when she was going to "rise from the ranks of handmaiden," Arthur decided it was time to cut in. He knocked crisply on the door.

"Rats, I hope they don't need anything urgent," he heard Merlin mutter through the wood. "Gaius doesn't want me treating anyone for a few days yet. Afraid I'm going to lapse into hysterics or stab someone again, I think." His voice rose for what was supposed to be the only overheard phrase. "Come on in!"

Arthur pushed open the door to find the two sitting at the table, each nursing a mug of tea, plates bare of all but crumbs before them. Guinevere smirked knowingly as she caught his eye, giving him a tiny nod as she stood. "I promise I'll be back to see you in the morning, okay, Merlin? I'm sure the others will be by as well." She walked around the table and gave the boy a peck on the cheek. "And be sure to have another slice of cake; a girl could cut herself on those cheekbones."

The two boys stared awkwardly at each other as she closed the door behind her. Arthur had not missed that when he walked in Merlin had recoiled slightly, and his eyes had darted around as if looking for an exit. _Still afraid, then_. Arthur went and sat on Gaius's bed. _There. I'm a nice safe distance away. Plenty of space for you to run off to your room if you decide I'm going to kill you for… whatever it is you think I'd have reason to kill you for._

Merlin eyed the prince warily. It was all good to joke with Gwen. Gwen was his first friend in Camelot and his best friend now. She would never forsake him. She had told him as much, proclaiming how certain she was that Merlin wouldn't attack her even if he'd had the chance. Her devotion was touching. But the fact remained that Gwen was the one person that he _hadn't_ attacked. Arthur… that was a different story altogether. He'd hurt Arthur. He'd wanted to _kill_ Arthur. To _destroy_ him. He'd only been stopped because Morgana had sent him after Agravaine instead.

If he hadn't gone after Agravaine…

Maybe he shouldn't even be near him now. He shouldn't have let Gwen leave. There should be someone with them, someone to stop him in case… in case…

"Oh, this is ridiculous. Merlin, I forgive you for trying to off me when you poisoned, and I'm sorry that I put you in danger in the first place. Now will you please stop _looking_ at me like that?"

Merlin jumped and cringed unconsciously. "Like what?"

"Like I'm about to order you to the pyre!" The venom in his shout only served to make Merlin flinch again, which, of course, made Arthur angrier. "Oh, for heaven's sake!"

"I didn't think that," Merlin mumbled, drawing his knees up to his chest and casting even more frantic glances towards the two doors, as if judging which one was closer. The corner of his mouth lifted a fraction it what might have been a smile but succeeded in only being a twitched grimace. "Gwaine already told me he'd throw you onto the flames himself for me."

"_So what on earth is wrong with you?_"

"I'm afraid I'd get there first."

Arthur froze. _Ah._ He rose carefully from the bed and walked slowly over the table. "Merlin, you aren't going to kill me. Gaius told me, the poison is out of your system now. That's all it was: some chemical brewed up to torture those who didn't deserve to suffer like that. _You_ didn't deserve to suffer like that. You didn't succeed in killing me, or Gwaine, or Lancelot or anyone else. And you're not going to now."

"I killed Agravaine. He was your uncle, and I murdered him." Merlin couldn't get beyond that, even knowing now what Agravaine had done, explained to him by both Morgana and Gaius.

"Agravaine… I won't say that he deserved to die the way he did, but he wasn't innocent, Merlin. He reaped what he sewed. And who's to say what might have happened if we hadn't rooted him out? What if you had recovered and he had lived? What more might he have done? Yes, it was wrong. But I _don't_ want you feeling bad about this."

The smile was just the tiniest bit bigger now, causing the slightest crinkle in his eyes. "Is that an order, sire?"

Arthur breathed an inward sigh of relief. "Yes, _Mer_lin. That is an order. Now, about when you can be back to work for me…"

* * *

-Epilogue-

"So, we're all in agreement on the terms?"

"Agreed!" cheered Gwaine immediately, earning a shushing glare from the rest.

"Agreed," Lancelot added solemnly, though he knew his vow was a bit redundant by now.

"Agreed." Elyan squeezed his sister's hand, glad he hadn't listened to his first judgments.

"Agreed." Leon and Percival looked a bit sheepishly at Gwen, remembering the tongue lashing she had given them before.

"Agreed." Morgana held her head up proudly, inwardly touched beyond all measure that they had included her in this, even if she knew they'd only done so as a precautionary note, not as a mark of trust.

"Then tonight we are in agreement. We will tell no one, not even Arthur, about Merlin being a sorcerer until such a day as he chooses to reveal it. On that day we will stand by him as his friends. As he has always stood by us."


End file.
